


Bringing on the Weather

by fiddleyoumust



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: bandombigbang, M/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:37:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddleyoumust/pseuds/fiddleyoumust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer is a pirate captain! Brendon gets kidnapped... twice! They fall in love. Most of bandom shows up for the shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bringing on the Weather

There's fog thick on the ground, and it's so cold out that Brendon wishes he'd thought to put on an extra layer. He bounces on the balls of his feet and cranes his neck to see over the man in front of him. Thankfully the line is short, and Brendon can see the door just past the crowd ahead of him. There's firelight burning brightly through the window, and Brendon already feels a little warmer knowing he'll soon be inside.

It takes another fifteen minutes to get through the door, but the warmth is so welcoming that Brendon immediately forgets standing out in the bitter cold. There's a filthy looking man sitting at a small table just to the right of the door. He doesn't look up when he says, "Where to?"

Brendon's thought and thought about this, but he still doesn't know. He's been running for more than a month now, moving with no destination and no thought except escape. England definitely wasn't the answer though. It's cold and miserable and the sun hardly ever shines. Brendon's not used to the cold. His skin is too thin.

The man looks up, takes him in and says, "You deaf, mute, or just dumb?"

"I don't know," Brendon says.

The man cackles loudly and says, "Dumb it is, then."

Brendon shakes his head and says, "No. No, I don't know where I want to go." The door opens again at Brendon's back, and a gust of bitter-cold air rushes into the room. Brendon shivers and adds, "Anywhere warm would be great."

The man's eyes sharpen a little, like he's reassessing Brendon, and okay. Brendon knows how he looks. He's skinny and slight and pretty much the most non-threatening person in the world, but he's not stupid. He's not going to let this guy swindle extra money out of him. He meets the man's stare levelly until the man asks, "How soon do you want to leave?"

Brendon says, "As soon as possible."

The man quotes him a price that is, amazingly enough, much less than Brendon was willing to pay. Brendon counts out his gold carefully and hands it over to the man. The man recounts it and says, "It's down at the dock. Name of _Folie a Duex_. She'll be heading out before mid morning."

Brendon nods and gathers his things, bundling up before he heads out the door.

After Brendon checks in with the Captain he goes to find something to eat. There's not much available by the docks, mostly taverns, so Brendon picks the cleanest looking one and goes inside. It's dark and kind of scary inside, but they serve warm apple cider and soup and the lady behind the counter is friendly enough.

There's a table full of young boys being really loud and drunkenly obnoxious for such an early hour. Brendon can feel a headache brewing behind his eyes, and he presses the heel of his hand against one of his sockets to try and relieve the pressure.

"Some ale would help with that," the barmaid says.

Brendon smiles at her, but shakes his head and says, "No, thank you."

An hour later the boys at the table are good and drunk. One of them gets up and comes to the bar to flirt with the barmaid. She laughs and flirts back shamelessly. Brendon amuses himself listening to their conversation until sunlight starts to pour in through the window, finally breaking through the dark and the fog.

Brendon lays some coins on the bar and inclines his head when the barmaid looks his way. "Thank you," Brendon says.

She smiles and slides the coins off the counter and into her hand before she says, "You come again."

Brendon says, "Sure," even though he's positive he'll never be setting foot in this place again. In a few hours he'll be well on his way to a new life. He puts his coat on and grabs up his bags, heading for the door.

He's just reaching out for the handle when it springs open and a tall, thin man comes bustling through with a few other men directly behind him. He bumps hard into Brendon's side and both of their bags go spilling onto the floor, papers and random junk exploding everywhere.

"Sorry," the guy mumbles.

Both of them stoop down and start picking through their things. Brendon glares at the guy and starts shoving his stuff back into his bag haphazardly. Once they're both sorted out Brendon stands up quickly, but his bag is heavier than he anticipated and he can feel himself being dragged forward by the strap as he completely loses his balance. His arms are full and he knows he's not going to get his hands up in time to brace his fall, so he scrunches his face into a grimace and waits for his body to make contact with the floor.

Instead, he feels someone's hands latch onto his hips, and his face bumps against something warm and solid but soft. Brendon looks up and his gaze locks with a pair of blue eyes. The man has a beard and longish hair the color of bronze, and he's smiling at Brendon like Brendon's just done something really amusing. Brendon reaches out instinctively and wraps his hand around one of the man's biceps.

The man arches an eyebrow and smiles even wider. "You should watch where you're going," he says. "I might not always be around to catch you when you fall."

Brendon glares and looks over his shoulder at the skinny man who is now talking with one of the drunk boys at the bar. "Your man should watch where he's going," Brendon snaps. "He barreled right into me."

The man laughs again and Brendon can feel it vibrate up through his arms and his chest, making him realize he's still clinging to the guy's arm. He drops his hand and tries to readjust the bag on his shoulder, but the man still has his hands firmly on Brendon's hips. "Ryan," the man yells, and the skinny guy looks over and says, "Yeah?"

"You nearly knocked this guy on his ass. Don't you want to say you're sorry?"

Ryan arches one of his eyebrows and gives them an assessing look. "I already did. Plus, you look like you're apologizing plenty for the both of us," he says smiling slyly.

The man throws his head back and laughs. Brendon can feel heat spreading up his neck to his cheeks. He watches the man's throat move as he laughs, and it makes Brendon's stomach twist and turn. It's a feeling Brendon easily identifies as desire, which only makes him blush harder.  
The man says, "Let me buy you a drink," just as Brendon says, "I have to go."

"What if I don't let you go?" the man asks, digging his fingertips lightly into Brendon's hip.

Brendon swallows hard and stammers, "I have a ship to catch."

A large man directly behind them says, "You've had your fun, Spencer. Let the poor kid go and buy me a drink instead."

"Buy us all drinks," Ryan shouts and the man--Spencer--laughs again and finally, finally lets Brendon go.

Spencer steps around Brendon and says to the barmaid: "Haley, how about some rum for me and my friends?"

Brendon lets out a shaky breath and readjusts his bags. He opens the door and is across the threshold when he hears Spencer shout, "Hey! You never told me your name, sailor."

Brendon looks over his shoulder and says, "Brendon."

"Maybe I'll see you around, Brendon," Spencer says.

Brendon isn't usually rude, but there's something about the way this guy assumes familiarity that really unnerves him. "I doubt it," he says as condescendingly as he can.

Spencer smiles and says, "You never know. Anything could happen."

Brendon lets the door to the tavern close between them, leaving Brendon standing outside on the cold docks. Brendon shivers involuntarily, but his hips are still surprisingly warm where Spencer's hands held him.

Brendon gets his sea legs right away and decides he wants to learn everything there is about sailing. The captain of the _Folie a Duex_ is a bit crazy, but a lot of fun too. He lets Brendon steer the ship and teaches him about the sails and the rigging, much to his first mate's horror.

"Lighten up, Patrick," Captain Wentz shouts. "We're in the middle of the ocean! It's not likely he'll be running us into anything."

Patrick lets out a long-suffering sigh and goes to check on the rest of the crew.

Brendon loses track of the days. He knows he could ask any of the crew and they could tell him the day, and also the hour, not to mention where exactly they are. Brendon doesn't ask, though. He sort of likes how not knowing makes him feel free.

He plays cards with Andy and cooks with Joe. He listens to Dirty tell stories about some of the ports in the Caribbean-- about taverns and brothels and the kind of places Brendon's only heard about in stories. He listens with wide eyes and open mouth, a furious blush staining his cheeks.

At night Brendon stays up too late and writes by candle light. He's got pages and pages of thoughts and ideas, of dreams that might actually come true now that he's free to do whatever he wants to do.

He gets caught up writing about the places Dirty and Andy talk about--places full of wild men and women who make their living from sin and depravity. The idea of such places should appall Brendon, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't find it all a little bit exciting.

Eventually he runs out of paper and has to go digging through his bag for more. There's a strange piece tucked in between a few of his pages, discolored along the edges and thicker than the pieces he uses for his journal.

"Where did you come from?" Brendon wonders.

He pulls it out and unfolds it, his heart beating a little faster when he realizes it's a map; the tiny islands depicted on it are more familiar to him than the back of his hand. He's never seen this particular drawing of the islands before though, and he has no idea where it came from or how it came to be in his bag.

There's no way his parents could have anticipated his running away in time to tuck a reminder of home inside his bags. Even if they had known, they would have devoted their efforts towards stopping him outright, not concealing sentimental reminders for him to uncover in the middle of the ocean.”   
.  
Shane might have done it, and Brendon's heart aches just imagining it--Shane tucking the map among Brendon's things and hoping that the thought of home would make Brendon think of him too. Brendon's hands shake a little. He wants to put thatl behind him. He doesn't want to think about Shane or his parents. He can't think about home without feeling physically pained.

He picks up the candle by his bedside and holds the flame to the edge of the map, watching as the corner catches and starts to burn. The flames eat away a good quarter of the map before Brendon throws it on the floor and stomps out the flame. He can't do it. He'd love nothing more than to be able to burn his past to ashes, but he's not completely ready to let go. He folds what's left of the map and tucks it back into his bag.

Two months into the trip Patrick stands on the stern of the ship and says, "Well that's not good."

Brendon gets up from the deck where he's been helping Dirty organize lengths of rope and looks out over the railing in the direction that Patrick is looking. He doesn't see anything, but Patrick's face is pinched tight with worry.

Brendon asks, "What is it?"

Patrick says, "Pirates," and then he turns and shouts for Pete.

The pirate ship gets closer as the day stretches on, and Pete tells them all to get ready. Dirty does this by settling into a chair near Patrick and dozing until he's snoring so loudly, Brendon wonders if the pirate ship can hear him.

"Are we going to die?" Brendon asks.

Pete says, "Sure, eventually. Probably not today."

Patrick glares and throws the piece of bread he's eating at Pete's head.

Brendon thinks they sort of remind him of his parents in a weird way. They're always fighting, but underneath it all Brendon can tell they adore each other.

"If they catch us, they'll take pretty much everything they can get their hands on," Patrick says. "But most of the time they don't bother killing everyone. It's too much trouble."

Pete says, "They'll take our food and drink instead and hope we starve to death before we reach shore."

Brendon isn't exactly reassured, but Patrick doesn't seem too worried, so Brendon guesses it will probably be okay. Patrick has a good head on his shoulders.

"Okay," Brendon says, "because I really don't want to die."

Dirty stirs, blinking up at the sun. "If they take all our food, we could still die," he says. "Starving to death is ugly business." He flicks his eyes over to Brendon and smiles wolfishly. "Suppose we could always eat you."

Brendon squeaks and looks at Patrick with wide eyes. Patrick rolls his and throws his plate at Dirty's head.

"No one is eating anyone," Patrick says firmly.

Brendon believes him.

 

The _Panic_ catches them two days later at sundown. Brendon has a moment to appreciate the beauty of the other ship before all hell breaks loose.

"Go down below with Joe," Patrick shouts, running for the starboard side of the ship.

Brendon goes, sitting in the dark underbelly of the ship until things get eerily quiet up top. Finally, someone makes their way down carrying a lantern. Joe said there wasn't any use in hiding, so Brendon is sitting at the table, calmly waiting with Joe right by his side.

"We've got two more," the guy shouts up the stairs. He's hulking and huge, and Brendon can't make out his face in the flicker of firelight and the dark of the cabin. "Come with me," he says to them.

Joe gets up and Brendon follows, his heart hammering in his chest. The pirates out number them, but just barely. They also have weapons, and Brendon supposes they aren't afraid to use them, which makes all the difference.

There are two of them tying ropes around the crew of the _Folie a Duex_. The guy that brought them up shoves them over that way, and one of the guys tying rope stops long enough to sit Joe and Brendon down in line with the rest of the crew.

Someone says, "Well, well, just the man I was looking for."

The voice is familiar, which makes Brendon look up. Surprise makes his eyes to go wide. It's the man from the tavern, the same blue eyes and the same smug grin, now slightly hidden by an unkempt beard. Brendon sucks in a sharp breath.

"You," he says.

Spencer smiles brightly and says, "Me," pointing his finger to his chest.

"You _know_ him?" Patrick asks incredulously.

Brendon shakes his head furiously and wonders how much trouble he would get in for kicking Spencer in the shin, while Spencer just continues to smile at him.

"No!" Brendon says. "I just ran into him--literally--at some tavern in the last port."

Patrick gives him a dubious look, but doesn't get a chance to say anything else before the giant that retrieved Joe and Brendon comes back and starts talking quietly to Spencer. Spencer nods, but his eyes keep flicking to Brendon, raking over his body in a way that makes Brendon's skin feel hot and itchy.

"It's good to see you again," Spencer says, smiling slyly.

Brendon hates the way Spencer makes him feel nervous and fidgety, like a mouse who's just realized he's being stalked by a hungry cat. He squares his shoulders and snaps, "The pleasure is all yours, I'm sure."

"Is that anyway to talk to a man who's traveled hundreds of miles just to see you again?" Spencer asks.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Brendon says. "We hardly know one another."

"But you have something I want," Spencer says.

He gives Brendon another one of those looks, making Brendon blush furiously. Brendon wishes the ship would just split in two so the sea could swallow him up and save him from his embarrassment.

"Spencer!" one of the other men shouts.

Brendon recognizes him as the guy who ran into him at the tavern so many weeks ago.

"We've got the supplies. Get what we came for and let's go!"

Spencer bends down and whispers, "It looks like we'll be taking our leave of you fine people, but I'm going to need you to give me the map."

Brendon can make out the rest of Spencer's crew loading the last of the _Folie a Duex's_ food supply onto their ship.

Spencer tips his head toward Brendon and says, "Come with me."

"What?" Brendon says. "Why?"

Brendon's heart is pounding so loudly he can hear it in his ears. He feels like he might throw up but he doesn't want Spencer to have that kind of satisfaction, so he stands up when Spencer's man, the one from before, comes over to haul him up.

"I'm going to need you to go with Zack and fetch my property," Spencer says.

Brendon shakes his head and says, "I didn't take anything."

Spencer's face goes from jovial to furious in the blink of an eye. "You're going to give me back what's mine or you're going to be sorry, Brendon. It would be a terrible pity to have to kill someone who looks like you do."

Brendon doesn't doubt Spencer would do it. Not for a single second.

"I really don't--" Brendon starts.

Spencer says, "A map, Brendon. When you bumped into Ryan at the tavern you took a map from him. I want it back right now."

"But that's... Why would you have a map of my village?"

Spencer stops glaring and bites his lip looking at Brendon with even more interest than before. "Where's the map?" he asks.

"In my quarters," Brendon says, "in my bag."

"Zack?" Spencer says.

Zack nods and goes back down below, emerging a few minutes later with Brendon's bag. He hands the bag to Spencer, who tosses it to Brendon and nods his head once.

Brendon digs through his things. His hands are shaking a little as he pulls the map out and hands it to Spencer. Spencer opens it up and says, "What have you done?"

Brendon lets out a small squeak. Spencer sounds really pissed--calm and collected and furious all at the same time.

"I--" Brendon starts, "I burned it a little."

"You burned it a little," Spencer shouts. "You just... burned it a little!"

"Fuck," Zack mutters.

"Him too," Spencer says, waving his hand at Brendon. "Let's go."

"What?" Brendon says, panic shaking him like the ocean's waves shake the ship. "No! I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Tie him up tight, Zack," Spencer says. "And put him in my room."

Brendon feels himself being lifted off the ground and he kicks out, screaming and cursing as Zack throws him over his shoulder like he's nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

"Put me down!" Brendon screams.

He feels his feet connecting with muscle and bone, and he takes a little satisfaction when he hears Zack make an _oomph_ sound after a particularly vicious kick. Brendon is positive he's never been this scared in his entire life. He feels like he might die just from how quickly his heart is beating.

Zack makes it across to the other ship, despite Brendon's best efforts--which have included kicking and biting. Brendon wishes his hands weren't still tied, because he'd use those too if he could. Zack carries him toward an opening that Brendon assumes will lead down into the bowels of the ship. Brendon knows that if they get him down there, he's lost. He wonders if he'll die down there, and that only makes him fight harder. He bites into Zack's back and doesn't let go, clamping down as hard as he can.

He hears Zack say, "Motherfucker," and then everything goes dark.

Brendon wakes up slowly, his whole head throbbing. It takes him a moment to drag himself up into full consciousness, but it's not one of those moments where he's uncertain about where he is. Brendon immediately knows two things: his head _hurts_ and he's apparently been kidnapped.

He sits up slowly and takes in his surroundings. He's in a bed in a cabin. It's actually a pretty nice cabin, better than anything they had on the _Folie a Duex_ , and Brendon gets out of bed to nose around tentatively.

There's not much to the room. It's small and kind of cozy, with a bed and a table with a small lantern burning on it. There are a few paintings hanging on the walls and Brendon's eyes flick from wall to wall adjusting to the dim light, until they settle in the corner of the room and fall on Spencer.

Brendon's heart jumps into his throat, but he's not about to show this creep that he's scared. He tries to sound casual--almost bored--when he says, "Oh, I didn't see you there."

Spencer smiles at him, and Brendon would think it was almost friendly if he weren't already certain that Spencer is a deranged killer. Spencer gets up from his chair and walks toward Brendon.

"I saw _you_ ," Spencer says.

Brendon gets a funny feeling in his stomach at the sound of Spencer's voice. Spencer's close now, closer than he should be for normal conversation, and Brendon feels exposed and peeled open. He feels like Spencer knows things about him just by looking into his eyes. Brendon looks away and takes in a shaky breath.

"Are you going to kill me?" Brendon questions.

Spencer hasn't looked away once since Brendon first noticed him. His eyes keep moving from Brendon's eyes to his mouth and back again, making Brendon really nervous.

Spencer says, "That's not what I had in mind for you."

Brendon doesn't like the way Spencer looks at him. Brendon's not going to lie and say he doesn't think Spencer's hot. He thought Spencer was hot when they met in the tavern months ago, and Brendon thinks he's hot now. He also thinks Spencer is a criminal and possibly a maniac who took him against his will and had his big, stupid, pirate friend knock him unconscious.

"Don't look at me like that," Brendon says.

Spencer just smiles and give Brendon an even more outrageous look, sliding his eyes from Brendon's throat down to his crotch.

"You're going to rape me and throw my body overboard, aren't you?" Brendon asks. He doesn't know where that comes from, but he thinks it's a legitimate concern--seeing as how he's locked inside a cabin with a pirate.

"What?" Spencer asks, his eyes snapping back to Brendon's.

Spencer looks kind of...shocked, or maybe affronted. Brendon thinks it's hilarious considering that he's a fucking _pirate_.

"I'm not... You look at me like you know what I look like without my clothes," Brendon says. "And I'm not... I've never... I would rather you kill me and just be done with it if you're thinking about doing _that_.

The look Spencer gives Brendon this time makes Brendon think Spencer would rather kill him than force him to have sex too.

"I'm not a rapist," Spencer says. "Or a murderer, for that matter."

"You're a pirate!" Brendon says. "You're supposed to steal, kill, rape and pillage."

"Well I do steal and pillage," Spencer says, "and I'm as capable of killing a man as anyone, but I promise I have no intention of raping you and throwing your body overboard."

Brendon breathes a sigh of relief and lets his shoulders relax. Spencer smiles at him, but now that Brendon no longer fears for his life or his body he has the time to think about what's happened to him. He has a minute to finally get good and pissed.

"If you aren't going to--" Brendon can't bring himself to say the word again. "Why the hell did you take me?"

"You burned my treasure map," Spencer says. "I would probably have killed you for that, but you saved yourself when you said you recognized the islands."

"I grew up on them," Brendon says.

"Yes," Spencer says, nodding. "You're going to be my new map, and while you're a little less convenient than a paper map, I have to say you're a lot nicer to look at."

Brendon blushes and lashes out. "I'm a person, you can't just take a person like you would a box of treasure or a barrel of whiskey," he says.

Spencer looks completely unaffected by Brendon's outburst. He takes a few steps closer until Brendon has to tilt his head back to look Spencer in the eye. Spencer leans in and inhales, his nose a mere inch from Brendon's neck. Spencer speaks softly, so that Brendon feels Spencer's breath against his skin before he actually hears the words.

"I'm a pirate," Spencer says. "When I see something I want, I take it."

Brendon doesn't know how it happens. One second he's completely in control and the next second he's pulling his arm back and swinging his closed hand toward the side of Spencer's face. His fist connects hard, making Spencer stumble back and lose his balance. Brendon watches in amazement as Spencer falls on his ass.

Spencer hits the ground hard and the sound of his body hitting the wood floor snaps Brendon out of his daze. He doesn't waste any time, just turns toward the door to the cabin and makes a run for it. He's vaguely aware of Spencer shouting behind him, but his heart is thumping loudly, all of his blood rushing through his veins in overdrive, making his ears ring.

Brendon makes it down the hall and through another door before he gets clotheslined by a big, meaty arm. All of the air gets knocked out of him, his throat closing up from the force of the blow. He falls, gasping, as his hands go to his throat as an automatic defense mechanism. Spencer's giant friend leans over, staring down at him.

"Kid," the giant – Brendon’s pretty sure he remembers that he’s called Zack -- says, "you are a major pain in the ass."

Brendon kicks him the shin in response, as hard as he can, which is not very hard at all given the fact that he still can't breathe.

"Son of a bitch," Zack says, reaching down and hauling Brendon up by his shirt.

Brendon starts to struggle, making his body as heavy as he can and flailing his arms and legs. He sees Spencer come into the hallway holding a hand over his right eye.

"Don't hurt him," Spencer says.

Zack makes a furious noise and says, "Why don't you tell him to stop hurting me. He kicked me in the goddamn shin."

"Tie him up and put him in the galley," Spencer says. "Let him spend a night communing with the rats and we'll see if he's a little friendlier in the morning."

Brendon says, "I'm never going to feel friendly toward you!"

"You never know," Spencer says. "Anything can happen."

Brendon bites on his bottom lip and glares as Spencer brushes by them.

"Where are you going?" Zack asks.

Spencer says, "I need a drink."

Zack hoists Brendon over his shoulder and says, "Pour me one too. I'll be right behind you."

There are literally rats.

Brendon can feel them running over his legs in the dark. The only thing he can find to be thankful for is that Zack tied his hands in front of him. At least he can slap them away when they try to climb on him.

He has no idea how long ago Zack threw him down here, but he's so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, and so scared that rats are going to gnaw his face off if he falls asleep that he can't close his eyes. Eventually his body makes the decision for him, exhaustion dragging him down into a fitful slumber.

He wakes up to Spencer saying his name. His instinctual response is to lash out, and he feels his hand connect with some part of Spencer's body.

"Ow, fuck," Spencer snarls. "Why are you always hitting me in the face?"

Brendon's wrists hurt, he's tired, and he's sore from falling asleep curled up on the floor. "Maybe because you kidnapped me, manhandled me, knocked me unconscious, scared the crap out of me, and then tied me up and left me in the dark to be eaten alive by rats," Brendon says.

"Technically, Zack did some of those things," Spencer says.

"On your orders!" Brendon shouts. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, trying to rearrange himself so he can sit up. "Ow," he says as his muscles cramp up from their new position.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks.

Brendon's surprised to hear actual concern in the timbre of Spencer's voice. "My wrists hurt and I'm tired," Brendon says.

Spencer reaches out and takes Brendon's wrists in his hands, his fingers working quickly over the knots in the rope. When he finally gets them off he brushes his fingers lightly over the inside of Brendon's wrists, rubbing his fingers over Brendon's hands and massaging out the soreness there.

"Let's make a deal," Spencer says. "We're in the middle of the ocean. There's nowhere for you to go. Frankly you've been such a pain in the ass I'd be more than inclined to let you go if I could, but that's not an option right now. So, if you can promise me you won't try to hit anyone else, I'll let you have free roam of the ship."

"No more ropes," Brendon says.

"No more ropes."

Brendon nods his head and Spencer nods his in return. Then he reaches down and unties the ropes at Brendon's ankles. Brendon's entire body hurts. He feels contorted, like one of the knots Spencer just untied.

Spencer helps him to his feet, but his left leg is numb and tingly from sleeping on it weird. It gives out, sending him crashing into Spencer's side.

"Sorry," Brendon says. "My leg is asleep."

Spencer lets out a put upon sigh and sweeps his arm under Brendon's legs, picking him up as though he were a bride and carrying him toward the narrow stairs that lead out of the galley.

"You don't have to--" Brendon starts.

"Just shut up," Spencer snaps. "I'm trying to be nice."

Brendon wants to point out that telling him to shut up is sort of counterproductive to niceness, but he keeps his mouth shut. They make their way to Spencer's cabin, a few of the crew laughing at them as they go.

"Nice catch, Spence," the skinny guy from the tavern says. He's smirking at the two of them in a way that makes Brendon uncomfortable.

"I can walk," Brendon says. "Seriously."

The skinny guy starts laughing, and Spencer says, "Shut the fuck up, Ryan."

Ryan doesn't shut up. His laughter follows them down the hall, only stopping when Spencer kicks the door closed. He sets Brendon on his feet and nudges him toward the bed.

"Get some sleep," Spencer says. "When you wake up we'll get you something to eat."

Brendon's had so many things on his mind that he forgot to be hungry, but Spencer's mention of food jogs his stomach's memory. His stomach makes a loud growling noise that has Spencer lifting an eyebrow.

"I'll go find you something now," Spencer says. "Make yourself comfortable."

Brendon feels weird about getting into Spencer's bed, but he's also exhausted and there's nowhere else to lie down. He's sure as hell not sleeping on the floor again. His back is never going to forgive him as it is. He climbs tentatively onto the bed and curls up on his side to wait for Spencer to come back with the food. He's asleep before he really even has a chance to close his eyes.

Brendon wakes up with someone pressed against his side. It only takes him a second to remember what's happened to him and to realize that it's most likely Spencer. He turns anyway, just to make sure, and immediately blushes with embarrassment. Brendon's back is solidly against Spencer's front, his ass tucked intimately against Spencer's crotch. Spencer has an arm thrown across Brendon's hips, his hand splayed out low on Brendon's belly. Brendon can't see any way of untangling himself without waking Spencer up. He also doesn't see any way around it though. Both his stomach and his bladder are protesting at how long they've gone without food or attention. He needs to eat and a place to relieve himself and he needs it now.

Brendon makes a few small movements, hoping one of them will wake Spencer. Finally he resorts to digging his elbow into Spencer's ribs.

"Ow," Spencer says sleepily, "you're bony."

"I'm hungry," Brendon says, "and you're kind of... Could you let me get up?"

Spencer slides his hand up Brendon's stomach and over his hip, his fingers trailing over the material of Brendon's white shirt. "Sure," he says.

Spencer's voice sounds rough and sleepy. That, combined with Spencer's fingers trailing across Brendon's body makes the hairs on the back of Brendon's neck stand up as he shivers.

As soon as Spencer rolls away Brendon practically flies out of the bed. He's still sore--a deep muscle ache that makes him want to crawl back into bed and never get up again. Spencer's still in the bed though, his eyes heavy and hooded and full of the kind of invitation Brendon would rather not think about.

"There's a plate on the table," Spencer says. "Just some bread and salted pork, but it should hold you over until our next meal."

Brendon glances at the table longingly, but his bladder is more pressing than his growling stomach right now. "I need to--" Brendon stops. He feels like a child having to ask permission to _pee_ , but he's about to go in his pants if he doesn't. "I need to relieve myself."

Spencer nods toward the far corner of the room. Brendon hadn't noticed the small door there. It's a small water closet, and Brendon practically trips over himself trying to close the door and get his pants down at the same time. He sighs heavily when he starts to pee, and he can hear Spencer laugh through the door. He didn't think about Spencer being able to _hear_ him, but at this point he doesn't know how he can possibly be any more humiliated than he already has been, so he finishes and readjusts his clothing.

Brendon steps out of the closet and goes over to the table without looking over at Spencer. He tears into the bread like a starving dog. He's so hungry he barely takes the time to chew before he swallows the first bite down.

"It's still early," Spencer says, "but Jon's probably up. We can have him make us breakfast if you're still hungry."

"Jon?" Brendon asks with his mouth still full of bread.

Spencer laughs and it's the first genuine laugh Brendon's ever heard from him. There's no derision or sexual innuendo underneath it to make Brendon uncomfortable, and for the first time since this whole ordeal began Brendon doesn't feel like his life is in danger.

"He's our resident cook," Spencer says. "He used to run with another pirating crew, but we managed to steal him away."

"Did you have Zack knock him unconscious and then lock him in the bowels of the ship for days until he lost all his will to fight?" Brendon asks sweetly.

Spencer raises one eyebrow and starts to unbutton his shirt, peeling the material from his shoulders and letting the garment fall to the floor. "Have you lost all your will to fight?" he asks. "Because that would be disappointing."

Brendon takes a step back and balls his hand into a fist, trying to make his face look as fierce as he can. "No," Brendon says.

"Good," Spencer says, walking toward Brendon slowly. At the last second he turns and brushes by him, instead opening a trunk on the far side of the room and retrieving another shirt.

"I'd offer to lend you one, but I don't think they'll fit," Spencer says. "Ryan's a little longer in the limbs than you are but he's skinny. We'll steal one of his when he's not looking."

"Ryan?" Brendon asks.

"He's the tall bony one who ran into you at the tavern," Spencer says. "I guess we should also introduce you to the crew. It'll keep you from feeling like you have to ask so many questions."

The crew consists of eight men and Spencer. Brendon thinks a more honest description would be three men, five boys and Spencer, but he's not sure he's allowed to insult the younger ones the way the rest of them do. As far as Brendon can tell there are three Alexes, a Cash, and an Ian. All they seem to do is drink, fight over food, and bicker about who's going to do what task.

"Time to get to work," Zack announces, standing up and stretching quickly before he heads out and presumably up to the deck. The five boys get up and follow him out--pushing, shoving and bickering as they go.

"How does anything get done?" Brendon mutters.

Jon laughs loudly, getting up to slap Brendon on the back. "They're a handful," he agrees. "But Zack has them pretty well trained when it comes down to it. It helps to be big and scary sometimes."

"Yeah," Brendon says, his eyes flicking over to Spencer. Spencer and Ryan are leaning over the table, shoulders touching as they study the map they took back from Brendon.

Jon laughs quietly again and says, "I'm not going to say Spencer's a pussy cat, because you know, _pirate captain_ , but he's really not going to hurt you."

For some reason Brendon feels more reassured hearing that from Jon than he did when Spencer was the one doing the talking. "I can be pretty annoying," Brendon says. "He might make me walk the plank."

Jon says, "Have you met our crew? There's no one on earth more annoying than Ryan and he and Spencer have been friends since they were boys. I think you're safe."

A part of Brendon wants to argue. He's on a pirate ship in the middle of the ocean with complete strangers. Strangers who are pirates. Being kidnapped and manhandled and kept against one's will doesn't exactly breed safe and fuzzy feelings. Of course, there's also nothing he can do about his current situation, and Brendon has always been the kind of person that makes the most out of what's handed to him. He may be a hostage, but no one seems particularly worried about him having free movement around the ship. He figures he might as well make the most of his current adventure.

"Do you think Spencer would let me go out on deck?" Brendon asks.

Spencer clears his throat at the other end of the table. "Why don't you ask him?" he says.

"May I?" Brendon asks. He feels like a child again, asking for permission like this, but acting petulant would be equally childish and probably wouldn't get him what he wants. "I'd like some sunshine."

"You go on deck, you work," Spencer says. "Find Zack and he'll find you something to do."

Brendon nods once, and Spencer goes back to his map, basically dismissing him. Jon stands up and motions for Brendon to come with him, the two of them leaving Spencer and Ryan to whatever it is they're doing.

Sailing is hard work. Brendon aches and his skin feels burned and raw from the sun. He has blisters on his hands from working in the rigging all day. Once the sun goes down Zack seems to relax a little. Jon makes some kind of stew and the entire crew gathers on deck to eat and drink. The boys are drunk on their first mug, and Brendon knows he probably would be too if he weren't sipping his at a more respectable rate.

Jon brings out a guitar and a harmonica. Ryan promptly picks up the latter and starts making noises on it, his long fingers curled across his mouth. Jon strums on the guitar until the two of them find some kind of cohesion, and Brendon can start to hear a song in all the noise.

It's an old tune, one Brendon's mother used to sing when he was a boy, so Brendon clears his throat and starts to hum along.

"Can you sing?" one of the Alexes asks. "I'm the only one who can sing. Well, Jon and Ryan like to pretend they can, but sometimes they sound like two cats going at it."

Brendon chokes on his rum and starts coughing.

Jon stops strumming long enough to slap his hand against the back of Alex's head. "Shut up, Singer," he says.

"Oh," Brendon says. " _That's_ why they call you that."

Singer beams and starts singing the song again at top volume. Brendon can tell he's trying to impress him. It's kind of sweet, really, so Brendon sits back and lets Singer have his solo. Jon and Ryan go straight into another song, a bit slower than the previous one.

Singer sits back down and sticks his bottom lip out. "I don't know this one," he says.

Brendon does know it, so he starts singing softly but strongly. When Brendon was a kid he had all this extra energy that his parents didn't know how to handle. No matter how long Brendon spent outside playing with friends or helping his father work the family's land, he always had more to burn. It was his mother's happiest day when they discovered Brendon's love for music. Something about playing piano or singing along with his brother's guitar playing had a calming effect like nothing else his parents had tried before.

Brendon figures if he could do anything he wanted he would be a musician, but in Brendon's village children follow in their parents' footsteps. They take over their parents' job and they marry someone in the village and they settle down to raise a family. That's what Brendon's brothers and sisters are doing. Brendon supposes that's what all of his friends are doing too, even Shane.

Brendon finishes his song on a strong note and picks up his rum, finishing the entire mug in one breath. The liquor hits him hard and makes his head spin. Brendon stands up, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

He walks to the edge of the ship. It's so dark that he can't actually see the water, but he can hear it splashing against the hull. He's feeling the effects of the rum in his limbs and his lips. Both feel tingly and numb, and for a split second he wonders if that's how the water would feel if he just let himself fall overboard.

Spencer startles him, sidling up alongside him and putting a palm against Brendon's back. Brendon jumps in surprise and Spencer grabs him more firmly, keeping him pinned to the rail of the ship.

"Planning on jumping overboard?" Spencer asks.

"I'm really not ready to die," Brendon says.

Of course Brendon's still not sure how safe he is in his current position either. Despite Jon's assurances that Spencer won't hurt him, Spencer still makes Brendon incredibly nervous.

Spencer leans in and speaks directly into Brendon's ear. "What _do_ you want, Brendon?"

The only thing Brendon's wanted for most of his life is escape, and now that he finally has it, he's not sure what he wants after that. A small part of his brain keeps telling him he might want Spencer, but that's too huge and too scary to think about right now, when he's not even sure what Spencer wants from him.

"I want sleep," Brendon answers. "I think I should lie down."

Spencer nods and says, "I'll take you down."

Spencer brings his mug with him, sipping slowly with one hand and splaying the other one across Brendon's lower back as they take the stairs down into the ship.

"You have a beautiful voice," Spencer says.

They reach Spencer's cabin. Spencer takes his hand off of Brendon's back and opens the door, nudging Brendon inside. Brendon's heard a hundred compliments on his voice before, but he tries not to let them affect him. There's no use getting an ego about a talent he'll never be able to explore.

"Do you sing or play?" Brendon asks.

Spencer grabs Brendon's arm and turns him so they're facing one another. He pulls Brendon toward him, taking him completely by surprise and throwing him off his already precarious balance. Brendon falls against Spencer's chest. He tips his head back, intending to ask Spencer what he's doing, only he never gets the chance.

Spencer kisses him, and the way it makes Brendon feel is absolutely unlike anything Brendon's experienced before. Not that Brendon has much experience. He's only kissed one other person like this before, and it was tentative fumbling in the woods behind Brendon's house. Kissing Shane was nothing like kissing Spencer.

There's nothing tentative about Spencer's mouth against his. Spencer knows exactly what he wants and apparently how to get it. He tilts Brendon's head and presses his thumb along Brendon's jaw in a way that has Brendon opening his mouth and meeting Spencer's tongue halfway. Spencer moans and deepens the kiss, sucking on Brendon's tongue.

Brendon's stomach twists with excitement as Spencer kisses him over and over, giving Brendon enough time to suck in small breaths before he attacks Brendon's mouth again.

Brendon feels attacked, disoriented and turned around and completely defenseless. He's also confused. He knows he should be stopping this, that it's wrong for so many different reasons, but he finds himself pulling Spencer closer and tangling his fingers in the ends of Spencer's hair instead.

They kiss in the middle of the room for a few long minutes until Spencer starts moving them, forcing Brendon to take careful steps backward. Brendon’s acutely aware of the bed behind them and of the growing bulge in Spencer’s pants that’s now pressing against Brendon’s hip.

Brendon reluctantly breaks the kiss, breathing hard against Spencer’s neck before he says, “Wait. I can’t.”

Spencer kisses along Brendon’s jaw, soft and open-mouthed. He tells Brendon, “Your mouth was made for kissing. You’re really good at it.”

Brendon feels almost smug that someone with Spencer's obvious experience thinks he's a good kisser, but Brendon was brought up by straight-laced and strict parents, and that part of him knows he should be offended by Spencer's assumed familiarity.

"That's not--" Brendon says, stepping back and taking a deep breath. "You shouldn't talk to me like that."

Spencer folds his arms across his chest and smiles. "I'll talk to you any way I want to," he says.

Intellectually Brendon knows that Spencer is trying to push his buttons, that he shouldn't take the bait, but he can't stop himself.

"I'm never going to see you as anything more than a criminal and a brute," Brendon snaps. "You have zero chance with me."

Spencer steps back into Brendon's space and leans in close, laughing quietly when Brendon automatically closes his eyes and tilts his head back. "I can see that you're completely uninterested," Spencer whispers.

Brendon flinches, putting as much distance between their bodies as he can while silently cursing himself.

“You should sleep,” Spencer says. “You have another day of avoiding my unwanted advances ahead of you tomorrow.”

Brendon _hates_ the way Spencer can make him want to laugh and punch him at the same time. He's confused and exhausted, and he's certain tomorrow is not going to be any easier. “I am tired,” Brendon says.

Spencer nods and turns toward the door. Brendon tells himself he's relieved that Spencer is apparently going to let him sleep alone, but he also feels something else too.

“You’re leaving?” Brendon blurts out.

Spencer turns and looks at him, his eyes searching over Brendon’s face. “I have work to do still,” he says. “But I'll be back.”

Spencer has this way of relaxing Brendon only to wind him back up again. He pushes and pulls until Brendon's so turned around he has no idea what direction he wants to go in. Brendon doesn't know what to say, so he just nods and watches Spencer shut the door quietly behind him. His body is still exhausted but now his mind doesn’t want to shut down. It’s racing with all the possibilities. He’s left home, and he knows he can never go back. The idea that Spencer may force him to go back is scaring the hell out of him. But he is also--for the moment--trapped on this ship, and even though he should be trying to figure out a way to escape, he isn’t. The simple fact is that he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go. There was no certain future at the end of his trip on the _Folie a Duex_ , only the possibility of one. This adventure seems as likely to end in his favor as the other one.

He also can’t stop thinking about Spencer. There’s something about him that keeps drawing Brendon in. He felt it when they first met at the tavern so many months ago, and if the way Spencer kissed him tonight is any indication, Spencer feels it too.

Brendon wanders the room, looking through some of Spencer’s things even though he’s sure Spencer wouldn’t approve. Eventually he makes it over to Spencer’s clothes trunk. There are three or four shirts folded neatly next to two pairs of black breeches. Brendon peels his own shirt over his head and throws it into the corner of the room. He puts one of Spencer’s shirts on, smoothing the material down over his stomach.

Spencer was right. The shirt is too large, but it’s comfy and it’s clean, which is more than Brendon can say for his own shirt. Brendon takes off his breeches and tosses them on top of his soiled shirt. Spencer’s shirt is long enough to cover him to his thighs, so he closes the trunk and goes back to the bed.

He spends a few minutes trying to get situated, finally getting comfortable on the far side of the bed, making sure to leave a space big enough for Spencer when he finally comes back. Brendon falls asleep thinking about tomorrow and wondering if Spencer will be pressed against him the way he was this morning.

Brendon wakes up alone. It doesn’t take him long to figure out that Spencer never came back to the room last night. Brendon doesn't know whether to be disappointed or grateful, so he settles on something in between. Brendon realizes he's earning Spencer's trust, something he didn't realize he wanted until this very moment.

Brendon’s breeches are hopelessly filthy, so he grabs a pair of Spencer’s and uses his own belt to cinch them at the waist. They're so long that they look more like pants than breeches, but they’re Brendon's only option unless he wants to head up for breakfast pantsless. Brendon finds his way to the room they had breakfast in the day before, but Jon is the only person still there.

“Did I sleep too late?” Brendon asks.

He doesn’t know why he cares what any of these people think of him. They’re pirates who took him against his will, and yet the idea of any of them thinking he’s lazy or useless is upsetting to him for reasons he can’t explain.

“We were under strict orders to let you sleep,” Jon says. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“I should probably go up and get to work,” Brendon says.

“Yes,” Jon says, “because there’s nothing Zack likes more than picking people up after they’ve passed out from lack of food.”

Brendon sighs and sits down at the table.

Jon hands him a bowl of something Brendon can’t identify. He thinks they may be overcooked oats or maybe rice, but whatever the substance once was it’s nothing but mush now. Brendon eats it with a hunk of bread and doesn’t complain.

“How long have you been sailing on this ship?” Brendon asks.

Brendon’s always been a talker. He’s never met a moment of silence he didn’t want to fill up with noise, and Jon seemed friendly enough yesterday that Brendon thinks he might actually get a conversation out of him if he tries.

“I guess I’ve been sailing with them for about a year, but I’ve been pirating since I was a boy.”

Brendon can’t imagine growing up on a ship, attacking other vessels and keeping company with rowdy and lawless men. “Why’d you join this crew?” Brendon asks. “Did your old ship get blown up?”

"Actually it kind of did," Jon says seriously. "Spencer's crew and my old crew have been friends for a long time. They have a lot of the same friends and unfortunately a lot of the same enemies too."

Jon looks like he's someplace else, reliving some other time that has nothing to do with a comfortable kitchen and bowl of hot food. Brendon sits quietly, listening to Jon talk about being attacked, and how Spencer saved his life and the lives of the rest of his crew.

"Anyway," Jon says. "He saved us from Greenwald and helped William--my old captain--rebuild the ship, which in the pirating world is a pretty classy thing to do."

"Who's Greenwald?" Brendon asks.

Jon's face turns grim, and his eyes lose some of the sweetness that Brendon usually sees there.

"A very bad and very dangerous man," Jon says. "He's... He and Ryan have a history, and... It doesn't really matter. We all hate him and would like nothing more than to shoot him on sight."

Brendon says, "And your old crew? Why did they make you leave?"

"They didn't make me,” Jon says. "We still see them from time to time."

There’s something wistful in Jon’s tone. He doesn’t sound sad exactly, just like someone remembering something that’s gone now. Brendon would probably sound the same way if someone asked him to talk about home.

“If they didn't make you then why did you leave?” Brendon asks. He knows he's being annoying and taking advantage of Jon's kindness, but Jon is so much more informative than Spencer, and Brendon's curious about all of them. He wants to know anything and everything about their lives.

Ryan chooses that moment to walk in the room. He gives Brendon a short look and says, “Oh, you’re up. Zack was just asking if Princess Brendon was going to sleep the whole day away.”

Brendon wipes his mouth and stands up. “I’m going,” he says as he heads for the door. He stops just shy of the doorway and says, “Thanks for breakfast, Jon.”

Jon says, “No problem.”

Brendon sees Spencer in passing a few times during the day, but neither of them have time to say more than a hello to one another. Brendon wants to ask him why he didn’t come back to the room last night, but he has no idea if Spencer will answer him honestly or at all. In the end it doesn't matter since he never gets the opportunity to talk to Spencer alone.

They all gather on deck when the sun finally goes down. Jon makes a stew that’s thick and spicy. Brendon eats the whole bowl and goes back for seconds without shame. He drinks two glasses of rum and listens to everyone talk around him.

The boys spend most of the night fighting over who will keep watch tonight until finally Zack snaps, “It’s Ian’s turn.”

Ian opens his mouth like he’s going to complain, but one stern look from Zack has him swallowing his words. The other boys laugh and point their fingers at him. Brendon imagines he’ll see the same thing tomorrow with one of the other boys as the target of ridicule. Zack seems like the kind of person who’s fair enough to make them all take their turn.

Cash says, “Captain Smith will probably steal your bed like he stole mine last night.”

Brendon files away that bit of information, staring openly at Spencer as he talks quietly with Ryan. Brendon knows he should be happy that Spencer didn't come back to the room last night. He _is_ happy. He is also a terrible liar, and despite everything that's happened to him in the last few days, he can't seem to get last night's kiss out of his head.

Jon interrupts Brendon’s musing by nudging his guitar onto Brendon’s lap. “Do you play?” he asks. Brendon nods, taking the guitar and running his fingers across the strings.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s been awhile though.”

Jon says, “I’m sure you’ll pick it back up. I’m going to bed so it’s your duty to entertain this rabble now.”

Jon stands up and stretches and makes his way past the group. He sticks his foot out and kicks Ryan in the thigh on his way by and Ryan reaches out for a split second and wraps his fingers around Jon’s ankle before releasing him.

Brendon fiddles with the guitar for a few minutes until Ryan stands up and announces that he’s headed to bed as well. Once he’s gone Cash snorts and says, “Who does he think he’s fooling?”

Zack reaches out and cuffs Cash on the head, but the other boys are already snickering.

Brendon’s eyes widen as he realizes the implications of Cash's words. He looks in the direction that Jon and Ryan left and thinks about the question he asked Jon this morning. He didn’t get an answer then, but he guesses he has one now.

Brendon catches Spencer staring intently at him, like he’s trying to figure out how Brendon is processing the new information. Brendon’s not shocked exactly, except that he sort of is. He’s never been around people where that sort of thing was just accepted. He didn’t know a place like this existed or he might have run away from home sooner.

Brendon stares right back and doesn’t blink. Finally he sets the guitar to the side and says, “I think I’ll head to sleep now too.”

Brendon can sense Spencer get up to follow him.

"Does it bother you?" Spencer asks.

Brendon doesn't have to ask what Spencer's talking about, but he also doesn't have to hesitate on his answer. "No," he says. "It surprised me. They don't seem like they fit, but it doesn't bother me."

"The fit pretty well," Spencer says. "As well as a person can fit with Ryan anyway."

Brendon thinks that is probably the truest thing he's heard tonight. Trying to figure Ryan out is like trying to fit something square into a round hole.

"Do you mind if I ask you what you plan to do with me?" Brendon says. He figures he might as well be forthcoming while Spencer's in a sharing mood.

"Right now we're headed in basically the same direction as the _Folie a Duex_. We'll stop at Port Royal or Tortuga to stock the ship up and then we'll turn around and head for Tenerife."

It's the first time anyone has mentioned Brendon's home by name. It makes everything feel more real, like Brendon's heading toward some disaster that he can't avoid.

"I wasn't ever going to go back," Brendon says.

"You shouldn't have burned my map," Spencer replies. "With you, we'll find the place in half the time."

"There are other people," Brendon says desperately. "You could get a guide. My friend Shane and I used to explore those woods together as boys. He knows them better than I do!"

"But I don't have Shane," Spencer says. "I have you."

Zack offers to teach Brendon how to shoot a pistol and fight with a sword.

"Every pirate needs to be able to defend himself," Zack says.

Ryan, who always seems to be around just to spoil Brendon's fun, says, "He's a prisoner though, not a pirate."

Zack rolls his eyes and says, "If I teach you how to fight you have to promise you'll have my back in a real fight."

Brendon says, "I promise I'll come to your rescue, but Ryan's on his own."

Ryan says, "Hey!" as Zack throws his head back and laughs.

Brendon is absolutely hopeless with a sword, but is pleasantly surprised to discover he's got really good aim with a pistol. Zack puts out various objects for Brendon to aim at, slowly moving them farther and farther away until Brendon can make the shot even when he's more than half the boat's length away.

"Remind me to bring you with me when I need to make a long shot," Zack says.

Spencer's been watching them from the sidelines, and Brendon would be lying if he said he wasn't hoping to impress him.

"You won't be taking Brendon anywhere," Spencer says. "If guns are going off, he'll be safely down below."

Brendon and Zack both frown, but it's Zack who says, "He's a grown man, Captain. I suppose he'll do what he wants when it comes right down to it."

Spencer and Zack stare at one another until the silence becomes uncomfortable, until Spencer looks at Brendon and says, "Go help Jon fix dinner."

Brendon's never heard Spencer's voice sound so cold. Brendon thinks "deadly" might be a better word to describe it. The tone makes him worry about leaving Zack alone with Spencer, even though, logically, Brendon knows that not only is Zack larger than Spencer, but Brendon is also much smaller. There's not really a lot he can do if the two of them are intent on going at it.

He feels responsible though, and he figures if he can make Spencer angry at him, maybe he'll forget to be angry at Zack.

"I'm not some child you can just send away," Brendon says.

Spencer's nostrils flare out and he finally stands, striding across the space between them. He gets right in Brendon's face and says, "Don't ever question me. When I give an order you will follow it."

He turns on his heels toward Zack, pulls his arm back and punches Zack so hard Brendon can hear the bones in Spencer's hand crack.

"If you ever disrespect me on my ship again I'll remove you from it," Spencer says.

Zack never even flinches from the blow. He just nods his head and says, "Yes, sir."

Brendon finds Spencer in his cabin, cradling his right hand gently with his left.

"How bad is it?" Brendon asks.

"Possibly broken," Spencer answers.

Brendon grew up on a farm. He's seen his fair share of broken bones, but he figures Spencer's probably had enough of them that he doesn't need Brendon's help.

Of course Brendon's never been any good at minding his own business.

"Let me wrap it," he says.

Spencer nods once and holds his hand out cooperatively when Brendon reaches for it. "Wrap it tight," Spencer says. Brendon wraps it as tightly as he can while still leaving Spencer enough give to use it if he has to.

"I'm sorry about today," Brendon says.

Spencer says, "I'm not some tyrant. I don't mind people telling me what they think, but when people start questioning what I say it can end up costing someone their life."

"It won't happen again," Brendon says.

Spencer surprises Brendon by laughing.

"I'm serious!" Brendon says. "I can be obedient."

Spencer says, "Zack's been with me for years and still gets bullheaded on occasion. There's no way in hell you're not going to question me from time to time."

"I'll try not to," Brendon says. "At least not where the ship is concerned."

Brendon becomes aware of how close they are now that he's not occupied with wrapping Spencer's hand. For the past few days, any time Brendon hasn't had his mind on something else, it's been on Spencer and how it felt to have Spencer kiss him the other night. Now he's back in the room where it happened, and Spencer is close enough to kiss him again if he wanted to.

"That's good," Spencer says.

Brendon blinks up at him from where he's kneeling on the floor and says, "What?"

"You not questioning me," Spencer says, and then he leans down and kisses Brendon.

Brendon kisses back, surging up on his knees and wrapping his arms around Spencer's neck. Spencer's beard takes a minute to get used to, but Brendon likes it once he does. It's soft and a little on the ticklish side, which somehow makes the kissing even hotter.

"Why haven't you been sleeping in here?" Brendon asks.

"I thought you weren't going to question me anymore," Spencer says as he takes one of Brendon's earlobes between his teeth and pulls gently.

Brendon moans, turning his head to give Spencer more access. "This doesn't have anything to do with the ship," Brendon says.

Spencer leans away from Brendon and gives him a solemn look, his eyes sweeping across Brendon's face, studying him the way Spencer sometimes studies his maps.

"I wasn't sure I was welcome," he finally says.

Brendon takes a deep breath and tries not to think about the implications of what he's about to say. He knows this is crazy. He barely knows Spencer. He's being held against his will, sort of. Just because there's nowhere for him to go doesn't mean Spencer would let him leave if he had the opportunity, so Brendon knows this is absolutely insane. He should not be attracted to Spencer. He should not want the man that manhandled him and tied him up and _kidnapped_ him. He shouldn't, but he does.

"You are," Brendon says, letting the words trip off his tongue despite his reservations. "Welcome, that is."

Spencer pushes Brendon back, putting more space between them as they look at one another. "This is a terrible idea," Spencer says. "You don't even like me."

"Do you care?" Brendon asks.

Spencer can be really intense sometimes, and Brendon feels the full effect of that intensity as he tries to hold Spencer's stare. Brendon would love just five minutes inside Spencer's head, to have the ability to figure out how Spencer processes things.

"You know," Spencer finally says. "I think I do."

"Spencer," Brendon says, because this doesn't have to be complicated. For once in Brendon's life he might actually like things to be uncomplicated, but Spencer shakes his head and goes to the door.

"Good night, Brendon," he says.

He's gone so fast that Brendon ends up saying good night to the door.

Brendon spends most of his time at the breakfast table watching Spencer. He doesn't even try to hide it, staring openly at Spencer as he talks quietly with Ryan. Both of them have their heads tilted together, their shoulders turned toward the rest of the table in a move that shuts out everyone else in the room in a way that's as final as having a door closed between them.

Jon clears his throat loudly and when Brendon looks over at him, he's smirking at Brendon knowingly.

"What?" Brendon whispers.

Jon just smiles wider and shakes his head.

Brendon knows he's being obvious, but now that he's actually given himself permission to think about what it might be like being with Spencer it's pretty much _all_ he can thing about. He's only had these kinds of thoughts about one other person in his entire life and while that was definitely scary and intense in its own way, it was tame compared to how Spencer turns him around and ties him up.

Brendon snaps out of his musing when he hears Spencer say his name.

"What?" Brendon asks.

Spencer isn't looking at him though. He's looking across the table at Zack who is looking between the two of them with an amused expression on his face. Brendon's not sure he likes being fodder for Spencer's entire crew. He doesn't think any of this is particularly funny.

Zack says, "Spencer was just asking about our plans for the day. But we don't have any plans. Just more of the same."

Spencer says, "Then Brendon will be with me today. I want to go over the map with him, see if we can piece back together what's missing."

"Okay," Brendon says. He tries to sound unaffected, but the reality of spending an entire day with Spencer is exciting.

Apparently, though, Spencer and Brendon piecing together the map really means Spencer and Brendon and _Ryan_.

"Are you sure?" Ryan asks for the billionth time.

Brendon throws his hands up in the air and says, "No! I'm not positive. How can anyone be positive about the location of every single tree and rock in a place he hasn't been in months?"

"But you spent every single day of the previous twenty years living there," Ryan says.

"Fine," Brendon shouts. "Why don't you tell me about every single creaky board and line of rope on this ship! According to you that shouldn't be difficult at all!"

"Both of you shut up," Spencer says. "You're giving me a headache."

"He's the one acting like a child," Ryan says, but Spencer holds his hand up and gives Ryan a stern look, effectively silencing him.

"Why don't you go check on lunch," Spencer says.

Brendon and Ryan both recognize it as a dismissal, and Brendon knows it has to sting to be sent away in deference to a prisoner. Brendon doesn't think there's anything more than friendship between Ryan and Spencer, but he can't help feeling smug about being allowed to stay, especially when Ryan shoots Brendon the ugliest look as he stalks out the door.

"I won't be winning any popularity contests with him," Brendon says.

"He's protective," Spencer says, collapsing into a chair and rubbing idly at his temple.

Brendon rolls his eyes and makes a scoffing sound. Brendon's not exactly the threatening type. He's small and skinny and even when he's mad he looks more petulant than fierce.

"How the hell would I hurt you? You're twice my size and you have a gun," Brendon says.

Spencer stops rubbing his head, using his good hand to boost himself out of his chair. Brendon lets Spencer come close, lets him put his hands on Brendon's hips and pull him even closer. Brendon tips his head back and closes his eyes and listens to the sound of both of them breathing until Spencer finally kisses him, and Brendon can't hear anything anymore over the rush of blood through his ears.

"You don't always need a blade or a bullet to make a man bleed," Spencer says as they break apart.

Brendon shivers against Spencer, burying his nose in Spencer's shoulder while he tries to get his breathing under control.

"I'm not going to hurt _you_ ," Spencer says, "just in case you were worried."

Brendon smiles with his face still pressed into Spencer's shirt and clings for another second before he lets go and steps back.

"I'm not going to hurt you either," he says.

Spencer smiles and circles his fingers around Brendon's wrist, pulling him toward the door. "Now that we have that settled, let's go eat."

After lunch Brendon and Spencer go back to his cabin alone. Brendon walks through the door first, turning as Spencer closes the door and leans against it, like he's waiting for Brendon to come to him.

Brendon walks back toward him but stops just shy of being able to touch Spencer. The two of them stare each other down, like two fighters waiting for his opponent to make the first move.

"You've been wearing my shirts," Spencer says.

Brendon nods slowly and says, "Mine is dirty. Is that...I hope you don't mind."

Spencer pushes off the door and reaches out for Brendon, pulling him close with his hands on Brendon's hips.

"It's been driving me crazy for days," Spencer says. "I can't think about anything but getting you out of it."

Brendon swallows hard and says, "I'm wearing your pants too."

Spencer lets out a sharp laugh and pulls Brendon close, leaning down to kiss him. Brendon kisses back, opening his mouth for Spencer's tongue. Brendon shivers when Spencer's hands rub at the base of his spine, and his fingers itch to touch back, to show Spencer how much he wants this.

Spencer nudges Brendon back before he has the chance to make a move, tugging lightly on Brendon's bottom lip when he breaks their kiss. Spencer starts on the buttons of Brendon's--technically Spencer's--shirt with one hand, resting the injured on softly on Brendon's hip. Brendon's own hands won't stop shaking, and he thinks Spencer is doing a better job one handed than Brendon could manage with both of his.

"I've never done this before," Brendon blurts out.

Spencer's hands still on a button near Brendon's belly button. He looks at Brendon's face and his gaze is so intense that Brendon has to look away.

"I figured," Spencer says.

Brendon closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. His hands are still shaking where they're resting on Spencer's arms. He's not scared exactly. There's really not a single word to describe what he's feeling right now, but it's a confusing mix of anticipation, nerves, and anxiety. Any fear he has is more about his own inexperience that fear of the act itself.

Spencer says, "Look at me, Brendon."

Brendon lifts his eyes to Spencer's.

"I can go sleep somewhere else," Spencer says.

Brendon's fingers dig into Spencer's arms and he says, "No...I just...I don't know what to do."

Spencer smiles, and it's maybe the sexiest and most confident smile Brendon's ever seen. "Luckily," Spencer says. "I am more than willing to show you."

Brendon nods and takes a few calming breaths before he steps away from Spencer. He starts on the buttons of his shirt where Spencer left off, taking his time and using the simple task of undressing to take his mind of the weightiness of what he's about to do.

Brendon shrugs the shirt from his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. Spencer closes the distance between them, using Brendon's belt to pull him back in. He kisses Brendon again, so slowly and carefully that Brendon thinks he might go mad.

Brendon deepens the kiss, melting against Spencer's body slowly. Spencer goes with the change, picking up momentum until they're kissing so hard Brendon's lips hurt from the combined pressure of their mouths.

Brendon moans when Spencer tangles his fingers in Brendon's hair, pulling hard enough to change the angle of their kiss. Brendon clings to Spencer, letting him maneuver them over to the bed.

Spencer stops kissing him and says, "Get on the bed, Brendon."

For once in his life, Brendon does as he's told. He feels like he can't get enough air, and it makes him want to pant like a dog out in the hot sun. He lies on his back and tries to concentrate on breathing normally. Next to the bed Spencer starts pulling his own shirt over his head and any hope Brendon had of not hyperventilating goes straight to hell.

"I can't breathe," Brendon says.

Spencer crawls onto the bed next to him and straddles Brendon's hips. Brendon puts his hands on Spencer's thighs, and he can feel Spencer's muscles straining from the exertion of holding his weight off of Brendon.

Spencer grabs Brendon's arms and cuffs both of Brendon's wrists in one hand. He pins them both above Brendon's head and then uses the weight of his body to hold them there as he leans down to kiss Brendon's mouth again.

Brendon's cock is starting to ache uncomfortably, and that--combined with Spencer's mouth--is enough to distract Brendon from his pesky need to breathe. Eventually the ache becomes almost unbearable, and Brendon's hips lift off the bed seeking some kind of relief.

Spencer makes a satisfied noise against Brendon's mouth and lets some of his weight settle over Brendon's lap. The pressure feels really good on Brendon's cock, so he lifts his hips again and grinds against Spencer.

Spencer kisses along Brendon's jaw, moving quickly down to his neck and to his chest. When he gets close to Brendon's nipple he finally has to release Brendon's wrists. He lifts his head and says, "I'm just going to be down here."

Brendon nods his head frantically, rolling the back of his skull against the bed and closing his eyes.

Spencer kisses down Brendon's body, wet and open-mouthed so that it's more like licking than kissing by the time he gets to Brendon's belly button. Brendon watches him until he gets to Brendon's breeches.

"Lift up," Spencer says gruffly.

Brendon lifts his hips and closes his eyes as Spencer pulls Brendon's pants down around his thighs. Brendon can't watch anymore after that. He feels so close to something that he can't quite reach, like his whole body is working toward a single unattainable goal.

Brendon knows what's coming, but Spencer's tongue on his cock is still a shock when it happens. Brendon flings one arm out, reaching for something to hold on to. All he finds are bed sheets, but he grabs on anyway, fisting his hands in the material.

Spencer sucks the head of Brendon's cock into his mouth, and it's like Brendon's body has a mind of its own as he bucks his hips up into Spencer's mouth. Spencer makes an unintelligible noise and puts his arm low across Brendon's stomach, holding Brendon's hips down on the bed.

Brendon wants to see. In all his fevered and childish fantasies he never imagined he would actually get to have this someday, and he'll be damned if he's not going to have a mental picture to go along with the entire experience.

He opens his eyes and looks down the length of his body, his eyes widening in amazement as he watches Spencer take him in. Spencer's lips are tight around his cock, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks Brendon in deeper.

Brendon feels something happening inside of him, his brain and his body fighting a war as his mind hopes this lasts forever and his body races toward a quick end. Brendon flings his other arm over his eyes, throws his head back and comes.

Spencer doesn't stop sucking even when everything gets too sensitive and all Brendon wants to do is push him away.

"Spencer, stop," Brendon finally manages, twisting his fingers through Spencer's hair and pulling as hard as he can.

Spencer lifts his head briefly before he leans back down and kisses along Brendon's hip, nosing his way slowly back up to Brendon's mouth. Brendon thinks he probably shouldn't find the idea of kissing Spencer so hot after what Spencer just did with his mouth, but he does. Their kisses are slow, Spencer matching the lazy rhythm of their tongues to the roll of his hips against the side of Brendon's.

"Can I... I want to touch you," Brendon whispers.

Spencer buries his face in Brendon's neck and nods his head, finally climbing off Brendon and stretching out alongside him. Brendon reaches for Spencer's pants and together they shove them down far enough to get Spencer's cock out. Brendon touches him tentatively, running his thumb gently across the head.

Spencer hisses and Brendon yanks his hand back, his eyes jumping up to Spencer's face to see what he did wrong.

"I'm sorry," Brendon says quickly.

Spencer shakes his head, grabbing Brendon's hand and guiding him back until they're both making a fist around Spencer's cock. Spencer shows him what to do; both of them are moving together, their fingers intertwined as they move their hands back and forth. Spencer's hips keep bucking up into the downward stroke the same way Brendon's bucked up into Spencer's mouth, so Brendon thinks he's doing it right now.

Spencer has his eyes closed, his bottom lip clamped tightly between his teeth, and Brendon doesn't know where to look. Spencer's face is amazing, but the way their hands look together on Spencer's cock is so fucking obscene that Brendon's eyes keep bouncing between the two. Spencer keeps the rhythm for them, speeding up as he gets closer until finally he squeezes his hand tight over Brendon's and comes.

Brendon keeps his fist tight around Spencer's cock until Spencer's hand falls limply to his side. Brendon's hand is sticky with Spencer's come and he's curious after watching Spencer go down on him, so he lifts his knuckles to his mouth and licks across them. Spencer makes a choked off noise next to him and when Brendon looks up Spencer is staring at him hotly.

"Come here," Spencer says. His voice is soft and hoarse, like he's been yelling and no longer has the vocal ability to speak at a normal volume.

Brendon scoots a little closer and lets Spencer manhandle him the rest of the distance until they're face to face, Brendon's knee resting between Spencer's thighs. Spencer leans in and kisses him messily. Their mouths aren't lined up quite right, and Brendon can feel Spencer's teeth against his bottom lip. It doesn't seem to matter though. Neither of them are complaining anyway. Brendon feels loose and sleepy now that it's all over. He tucks his face into the crook of Spencer's neck and lets the sounds of the ship lull him to sleep.

Brendon wakes Spencer up with a blow job. He figures he'll be less embarrassed if he just goes for it while Spencer's still half asleep and disoriented. Spencer grunts and pulls on the ends of Brendon's hair a little.

Brendon pulls off and says, "If I'm doing this wrong you're going to have to tell me."

Spencer says, "Less talking would be good," so Brendon rolls his eyes and puts his mouth back on Spencer's cock.

Doing this is weird. Brendon's mouth feels too full already and he isn't nearly as far down on Spencer's cock as he thinks he should be. He pulls off, frustrated and wraps his hand around Spencer's dick instead, jacking him slowly, trying to replicate the way he did it last night. He shoots Spencer a frustrated look.

"I'm messing this up," he says.

Spencer shakes his head and says, "Seriously, Brendon, as long as you don't bite my dick off we're good."

Brendon stops moving his hand on Spencer's cock and says, "You said you would show me."

Spencer closes his eyes and makes a high pitched noise in the back of his throat. When he opens them the look he gives Brendon makes Brendon's stomach flip. Spencer says, "Do what you were doing before, and I'll show you."

Brendon scrambles back down. He puts one hand on Spencer's hip and the other around the base of Spencer's cock before he starts sucking him again. Spencer lays his hand on the side of Brendon's head, using his thumb to tuck some of Brendon's hair behind his ear.

"Relax your jaw and use your tongue. Let it kind of..."

Brendon does exactly what Spencer tells him and Spencer stops talking, lifting his hips up and forcing his cock further into Brendon's mouth. It makes Brendon gag a little, so he pulls back and takes a deep breath before going back down.

There's spit everywhere. It's kind of gross, but it helps make everything slicker so that when Spencer bucks his hips again Brendon's able to take him in without choking.

"Relax your throat too," Spencer says. He smooths his thumb along the curve of Brendon's jaw and pushes his head down even further. "And breathe through your nose."

Listening to Spencer tell him what to do makes everything hotter. Brendon's cock is hard now too and he pushes his hips against the bed to relieve the ache. The next time Spencer pushes on the back of Brendon's head he tries to relax, opening his throat and swallowing around the head of Spencer's cock.

He feels stupidly proud when Spencer moans and pulls on the ends of his hair. The next time he goes down he does it without Spencer's hand pushing him, sucking and swallowing and trying not to think about how he's getting spit everywhere.

He does it over and over again, listening to Spencer's labored breathing and waiting for Spencer to give him more directions that never come. Brendon's so worked up that he starts humping the sheets in earnest, using the friction to try and get himself off.

Brendon has a hard time keeping any kind of coherent rhythm after that. Spencer keeps bucking his hips, and Brendon can't stop grinding his own into the bed sheets. That combined with Brendon's mouth moving on Spencer's cock makes Brendon forget which was is up.

Finally Spencer pulls hard on Brendon's hair, moving Brendon forcefully off his cock.

"I was wrong," Spencer says breathlessly. "Your mouth was made for _this_."

Brendon flushes red, but despite the slight embarrassment he's actually stupidly proud that Spencer thinks he's good at this.

"Let me finish," Brendon says.

His voice sounds torn up, and Brendon wonders if he'll be able to speak by the end of the day. He drops his head back to Spencer's cock and sucks gently on the head, using his hand to jack Spencer in earnest.

He can tell Spencer's close by the sound of his breathing, and the way his thighs are trembling under Brendon's hands.

Brendon pulls off long enough to say, "Come on, Spencer," and before he can get his mouth back on Spencer's cock, Spencer throws his head back and comes, making a mess of Brendon's hand and his own stomach.

Brendon's kind of disappointed that Spencer didn't come in his mouth. He's not sure he would have liked it, but Spencer did it for him and seemed to enjoy it. There's just so much that Brendon doesn't know, and he wants to know everything. He wants to spend the next week in bed and make Spencer show him every single thing he can think of.

When Spencer finally gets his breath back he says, "Did you come?"

Brendon shakes his head, scrambling up the bed to kiss Spencer and pressing his erection against Spencer's hip to prove how hard he still is.

"I want you to touch yourself," Spencer says.

It's just one more thing that Brendon never imagined doing. He's touched himself before, but only when he was sure he was alone and no one else would catch him. But times like that were few and far between back home, and he certainly would never have done something like that while someone else watched him.

Still, the idea of it is thrilling; dirty, and wrong in a way that makes Brendon's heart race in his chest. He rolls over onto his back and splays his legs open, taking his cock in his hand. Spencer watches him with sleepy, hooded eyes. Anyone else would probably look horrified right now, but Spencer looks...hungry. Like watching Brendon do this to himself is only making him want Brendon more.

It doesn't take long for Brendon to come with Spencer looking at him like that. Once he's come down a little, Spencer pulls him close and says, "God you're so..."

Brendon smiles against Spencer's collarbone and says, "I learn fast."

Spencer says, "Yes you do."

Every day that Brendon spends on the _Panic_ makes it feel more like home. He spends his days helping the crew until it stops feeling like he's just pitching in and starts feeling like he's doing his job.

He spends his nights with Spencer, and that's starting to feel like home too. Brendon hates the nights when Spencer doesn't come to bed, and it's not just because he doesn't get to have sex. Discovering sex is one of the most amazing things that's happened to him on a long list of amazing things, but more than that, Brendon just really likes being with Spencer. He likes being with him so much that he would be worried if he wasn't positive that Spencer likes being with Brendon, too. Neither one of them seems capable of keeping his hands off each other.

Spencer is always sneaking up on him. Brendon figures it's a benefit of knowing the ship better than Brendon does, and he doesn't exactly put up a fight when Spencer pulls him into dark corners and kisses him until he can't think straight.

"Zack's going to come looking for me," Brendon says breathlessly.

Spencer has these amazing arms. He's not the biggest guy in the world, but he sails for a living and he's got strong shoulders and muscular forearms that are just perfect for lifting Brendon and pinning him against things. Currently, Brendon is pinned against the side of the ship. He can see the mast and the rigging in the brief pauses between kisses.

Spencer kisses down his throat and says, "Good thing Zack works for me. I can tell him to fuck off."

Brendon closes his eyes and lets himself be kissed. He loves kissing and he loves how much Spencer seems to enjoy kissing him. He loves everything they've done so far, but he knows there's more, and he hasn't figured out how to tell Spencer what he wants.

He runs out of time to think about it when someone clears their throat behind them. Spencer sets Brendon back on the ground and turns to glare at Marshall who is doing his best to avert his eyes. He looks thoroughly embarrassed and maybe a little scared.

"Sorry sir," he says, "but Zack says you're needed on deck."

Spencer nods once and walks away, his steps brisk and purposeful, leaving Brendon feeling exposed and disoriented. Marshall smiles meekly at him and flees, like his life depends upon putting some distance between the two of them.

Brendon takes a few moments to straighten his clothes and his hair before he goes looking for Jon. He needs some advice, and Jon's always been nice to Brendon. Unfortunately Jon isn't in the galley, but Ryan is.

Ryan glares at him and then says, "Yes?"

Brendon's not sure what to make of Ryan. He seems goofy and spacey one minute and spiteful the next. He's also apparently sleeping with Jon which shouldn't make sense, but somehow does.

"I was looking for Jon," Brendon says.

"He's down in storage," Ryan says. "We're not sure we're going to make it to Port Royal before we run out of food."

Brendon nods, sitting down at the table before he says, "So you've had sex, right?"

Ryan chokes, which is impressive considering he's not even drinking anything. Ryan shakes his head and says, "I'm not talking to you about this."

"But I think I want to," Brendon says. "Have sex I mean... I don't really want to talk about it, but I also don't know how to do it, so talking about it is kind of a necessary evil."

Brendon has this bad habit of babbling when he's nervous.

"The walls aren't exactly made of iron around here," Ryan snaps. "You and Spencer sound like you're doing just fine."

"We're not...We haven't done _that_ yet," Brendon whispers as he flushes pink and stares down at the table. He’s too embarrassed to look Ryan in the eye.

Ryan says, "I'm going to kill Spencer." He gets up and paces around the galley. "How many ships have we attacked, and he has to go and pick up some fumbling virgin?"

"Hey!" Brendon says. "I'm getting better!"

"Oh my God! Shut up," Ryan says. "I don't want to know."

Brendon sighs as melodramatically as he can and puts his head down on the table. "I'm going to die a virgin and it'll be all your fault."

"You're not going to die a virgin," Ryan says. "I'm pretty sure Spencer will be more than happy to see to that."

"But what if it hurts?" Brendon asks. "What if I do it wrong and Spencer decides to throw me overboard?"

Ryan looks at Brendon like he's lost his mind. “I’m sure you won’t do it wrong,” he says.

Jon walks in then and says, “Do what wrong?” and Ryan looks so relieved that Brendon think Ryan might kiss him right there in front of Brendon and God and everyone.

“Oh, thank you God,” Ryan says. “Brendon needs to talk to you.”

Ryan flees from the room like it’s on fire.

Jon says, “That was weird.”

Brendon nods and says, “So you’ve had sex, right?”

Brendon decides that the easiest way to get what he wants from Spencer is to use what he has to seduce Spencer into giving him what he wants. It's not that Brendon thinks Spencer doesn't want to have sex with him. Spencer's proven time and time again that he's more than happy to get Brendon naked, he's just been holding back on the actual fucking.

Brendon enlists Zack and Jon to help him set up a dinner for two in Spencer's quarters. It's hard to surprise Spencer with anything. Sometimes Brendon thinks he's everywhere at once, because he always knows what's going on on his ship. It almost takes an act of God to get everything set up.

The meal isn't much, but it's the best Jon could come up with considering their limited meal options. There's pork and rice and a nice loaf of bread. Jon even dug up a bottle of wine.

"I'm not going to vouch for it's quality," Jon says. "But it'll get you drunk."

"He's probably going to think it's stupid anyway," Brendon says.

Jon shrugs his shoulders, which isn't all that reassuring. "It's Spencer. He'll appreciate it because it's important to you. He's like that, but honestly if you just told him what you wanted, he'd give it to you without all of this."

Brendon feels stupid, but he doesn't want to just ask Spencer to fuck him. He kind of wants it to be special, at least for him. He's not sure what all of this means to Spencer, but being here on the ship and being with Spencer has completely changed Brendon's life.

Brendon never dreamed he could have what he wanted back when he used to think of it in secret, alone and ashamed and feeling like a freak and an outcast, even among his own people. Being with Spencer has made Brendon realize he has the freedom to choose in a way that people who have always had that freedom would never understand.

"It means something to me," Brendon says softly. "I can't explain it."

"I'll leave you to it then," Jon says. Right before he walks out of the room he says, "I'm sure Spencer will love it."

Every night, the crew gathers on deck to drink and sing or just tell tall tales that even Brendon doesn't believe. One of the Alexes is talking about some ship they attacked, regaling Brendon with talk of sword fights and sinking ships.

"You should have seen Spencer," Cash says.

He gets up and pulls his sword from its sheath, waving it around dramatically as he gives a reenactment of Spencer's sword fight with the other ship's captain. Ian gets up to join him a few moments later, the two of them laughing and clanking their blades against one another as Ian picks up the story and continues to tell them all about Spencer's heroic defeat of the enemy ship.

Brendon doesn't know how it happens exactly. One minute they're all laughing at the boys' antics and the next minute the ship hits a particularly ugly wave, sending the port side high before it drops back level.

It's not anything that hasn't happened hundreds of times since Brendon's been on board. It's not anything an experienced seaman would have any trouble with, but Cash and Ian both lose their balance, the two of them too intent on playing instead of keeping their sea legs.

Brendon sees it when Cash's blade goes in. Ian's eyes bulge out as he shouts in pain, his hand going to his stomach where Cash's sword is still sticking in Ian's belly.

"Fuck," Jon says, surging up as Spencer and Zack and Brendon all do the same.

"Don't touch him!" Spencer shouts, but Cash is already staggering backward, taking his sword with him.

Brendon's never seen so much blood so fast. It stains the front of Ian's shirt almost instantly, and Ian falls to his knees, clutching at the wound. Brendon is closest and he gets there first, kneeling beside Ian and helping him onto his back. Brendon does the first thing he can think of, putting his own hands over the wound and applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding. There's a lot of shouting and confusion as Jon kneels down next to him.

"Brendon," Jon says calmly. "I need you to lift your hands."

Brendon feels like his arms are locked, like he can't get his hands to move even though he can plainly hear Jon asking him to get out of the way.

"He's bleeding," Brendon says, and Jon nods, wrapping his fingers around Brendon's wrists and prying him away from Ian. Jon has his own shirt balled up in his hands and he uses the material to cover the wound, reapplying pressure to try and minimize the blood loss.

"Zack, pick him up and take him down to the galley. Put him on the table. Jon, keep pressure on the wound. Everyone else go back to work or go to bed," Spencer says.

Brendon says, "Spencer--"

"Brendon, go to our cabin. I need you to get out of the way," Spencer says, interrupting Brendon before he can ask what he can do.

Brendon wants to argue, but his mind flashes back to the day Spencer punched Zack and the promise Brendon made about obeying when he could. Things are different between them now, and Brendon doesn't doubt that if Spencer needed his help he would ask for it. Brendon knows the best thing he can do is to follow Spencer's directions.

Brendon nods and walks on shaky legs back to Spencer’s cabin. He'd forgotten all about his dinner and looking at the candles and the wine just makes Brendon feel stupid. All he wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep, but he’s covered in blood and his hands are shaking so badly he doesn’t think he can get his shirt off. He ends up sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed and curling up to wait.

Spencer finds him like that a while later.

“Fuck,” Spencer says.

He kneels down in front of Brendon and pulls him until he’s sitting up. “Lift your arms,” he says. Once Brendon complies Spencer yanks Brendon’s shirt over his head and tosses it in the corner of the room. Brendon’s vaguely aware of Spencer getting up and moving around the room. When he comes back he has some clean washcloths and a bowl of water.

Spencer starts cleaning Brendon’s hands. Brendon can’t stop shaking, and it only gets worse as he watches the cloth go from white to bright red.

“Ian’s dead, isn’t he?” Brendon asks.

Spencer stops wiping him down. He grabs Brendon’s chin firmly in his hand and forces Brendon’s face to his. “Ian’s not going to die,” Spencer says. “Everything is going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

Brendon starts sobbing, this horrible sound that surprises both of them escaping from somewhere deep inside. Spencer pulls Brendon against his chest and makes soothing noises while Brendon cries.

He cries himself out in Spencer's arms, and when he's finished he's so tired he can barely keep his swollen eyes open. "I'm sorry," Brendon says.

"No," Spencer says. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen that."

Brendon isn't some delicate flower. He's naive maybe, but he doesn't need Spencer to treat him with kid gloves.

"Is Ian going to die? And don't lie to me," Brendon says.

Spencer takes a deep breath before he speaks, like he's steeling himself as much as he's going to try to steel Brendon.

"He's lost a lot of blood, but Jon's stopped him from losing anymore. It's... He's not good, but we'll be to Tortuga in another day. We can get him some help there."

Brendon doesn't know how to feel about the possibility of getting off the ship. Anyone in their right mind would be thinking about how to get out of there, but Brendon's feelings toward the ship and the crew--toward Spencer--have changed a lot since he was first brought on board.

Brendon leans over and kisses Spencer softly on the corner of his mouth. When he left home he’d been sure that no one could ever hurt him the way Shane had, but seeing Ian bleeding like that--seeing the dangerous side of Spencer's line of work--made him realize that his feelings for Spencer are a lot more serious than he realized. The heartbreak Shane caused him is nothing compared to the damage Spencer could now inflict.

Feeling this way is totally idiotic and Brendon knows it. Spencer is a pirate. Hell, Spencer is the pirate who _kidnapped_ him, and now Brendon can’t imagine a life that isn’t this one. He wants to be with Spencer, on this ship, with this crew. He doesn’t care how stupid that makes him.

“Spencer,” Brendon whispers.

"You should get some sleep," Spencer says.

Brendon doesn't want to sleep.

"I'm not tired," Brendon says. "I just keep seeing Ian lying there bleeding. Help me think about something else."

He kisses Spencer firmly on the lips, doing his best to draw Spencer into the kiss. There's no way either of them is very comfortable. They're both still sitting on the hard floor, and Brendon is half in Spencer's lap, but they make it work somehow. Spencer kisses him back until they're both breathless.

"I can't do this right now," Spencer says. "I have to go back upstairs. My crew needs me."

Brendon says, "I want..."

He doesn't know how to say it, and Spencer can't hear it right now. As much as Brendon doesn't want Spencer to go, he knows Spencer needs to.

"I want you too," Spencer says, pulling Brendon fully onto his lap. He kisses Brendon again, both of them clinging to one another desperately. "But I have to go."

Brendon can hear how much Spencer wants to stay by the tone of his voice. It's not much of a consolation, but it's all Brendon has for right now.

"Will you come back when you can?" Brendon asks.

Spencer nods and they both get up off the floor. Brendon walks with Spencer to the door, kissing him again.

Spencer says, "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to wait up for me."

Brendon says, "Yes, sir."

 

Brendon doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes up in the middle of the night pressed to Spencer’s side. Spencer looks relaxed. All the worry and anxiety that had been floating around him prior to the accident is gone now that he’s asleep.

Brendon rubs one of his thumbs over Spencer’s nipple and kisses him on the purplish skin under his right eye. Brendon's already hard. Sleep was the only thing that stopped him from thinking about Spencer and sex and sex with Spencer, and now that he's awake again he's ready for Spencer to wake up too.

"Spencer," Brendon says. He noses along Spencer's throat, kissing his way down to Spencer's chest.

Spencer wakes up slowly, his hands moving up Brendon’s back to pull him closer.

“Spencer,” Brendon says again. “I fell asleep.”

Spencer snorts and says, "You never listen to me."

"It was an accident!" Brendon says. "I don't even remember falling asleep."

Spencer pulls Brendon close and kisses him. "I forgot to mention the room earlier," he says. "It's...you didn't have to go to all that trouble."

Brendon feels shy. He doesn't know what to say so he hides his face in Spencer's neck and shakes his head.

"What was the occasion?" Spencer asks.

Brendon pushes himself up onto one elbow and tries not to think about how humiliated he's going to be if Spencer laughs at him. "I was trying to seduce you," Brendon whispers.

"Since when do you have to try?" Spencer asks. "In case you haven't noticed I'm pretty easy for you."

Brendon says, "I want--"

He takes a deep breath and tries to calm his nerves. Brendon knows Spencer won't hurt him. As crazy as it sounds, Brendon feels completely safe with Spencer.

"I want you to be my first," Brendon says, finally finding the courage to put into words what he's been thinking about for days.

Spencer stills beside him, sucking in a deep breath. Brendon's not sure what kind of answer to expect, but his heart sinks when Spencer rolls out of bed and walks to the other side of the room. He crouches down in front of one of his trunks and digs around inside. The room is dark, but Brendon can hear Spencer muttering to himself as he tries to find whatever he's looking for.

"Spencer?" Brendon says.

"I'm right here," Spencer says. "Hold on for me."

Spencer comes crawling back onto the bed a few moments later with a small glass bottle in his hand.

"What is--" Brendon starts, but Spencer cuts him off with a quick kiss.

"It's oil," Spencer says. "It helps ease the way."

"Ease the..." Brendon's eyes go wide when he realizes what Spencer is saying. It's not that Brendon doesn't understand the mechanics of sex, but he's never been around people who talked openly about it. He's never actually been around people that talk about it at all.

"We'll go slow," Spencer says.

Spencer's already naked, but Brendon can't get used to sleeping in the nude. He has one of Spencer's shirts on, partly because they're roomy enough for sleeping and partly because he likes the way Spencer looks at him when he wears them.

"I should get out of this shirt," Brendon whispers.

Spencer says, "You should let me get you out of that shirt."

"Or that," Brendon says.

Spencer's hands are always so steady, especially when compared with Brendon's. His always seem to be shaking and fumbling, so Brendon's grateful that all he's required to do at the moment is cling to Spencer's shoulders.

Spencer works the buttons of Brendon's shirt loose and pushes it back off Brendon's shoulders until they're both naked. Spencer is always quietly appreciative once he's gotten Brendon's clothes off. He never says much, but Brendon doesn't ever have any doubts about the things going through Spencer's mind.

Spencer kisses him a couple of times, trailing down Brendon's neck with an open mouth. He uses his tongue too, licking tiny spots of skin that go hot from Spencer's mouth to cool where the air hits them once he's moved on to the next. Brendon feels a spike of adrenaline, the steady throb of anticipation lessening now that he's finally getting what he wants.

"Spencer," he says.

"Shh," Spencer says, still mouthing at Brendon's shoulder. "Roll over for me."

Brendon takes a deep breath and rolls over onto his stomach, pushing himself onto his knees when Spencer grabs him by the hips.

"Were going to go slow." Spencer kisses down Brendon's spine, laying the soft, sweet press of his lips to Brendon's tail bone before he says, "I'm going to start with my fingers, but if I do something you don't like I need you to tell me to stop."

Brendon doesn't think he'll need the out, but hearing that he has one only makes him that much more certain of Spencer. He nods his head frantically and says, "Okay. I'm ready."

Brendon's expecting the oil to be cool, but it's surprisingly warm, like Spencer took the time to heat it up between his fingers. Brendon feels Spencer, the tip of one finger tracing a lazy circle around Brendon's entrance , and he tries to relax even as he tries to anticipate what Spencer is going to do next.

Spencer traces his thumb around Brendon's hole, teasing with the barest hint of pressure before moving his fingers away again.

Brendon pushes his face into the bed and moans. He wants to push back against Spencer's hand, but he doesn't know if that's what he _should_ do.

"I want--" Brendon says.

"What do you want?" Spencer asks.

"Your fingers," Brendon says. "Or your cock."

It's Spencer's turn to moan, and he answers by finally pressing one of his fingers into Brendon's body.

"You can have both," Spencer says. "First my fingers and then my cock."

Spencer's finger feels strange, like a kind of tug-of-war going on inside of Brendon. Brendon wants this, but there's something so huge about it that he also wants to run away.

"Another one," Brendon breathes, choosing to ignore the parts of himself that are trying to make him think too much about this.

Spencer works a second finger in alongside the first, and the strangeness of it is replaced by a sting and stretch that feels good. Brendon's starting to sweat from holding himself up on his elbows. It's the good kind of sweat, the kind he gets after a hard day of work, but his arms are already sore, and he's not sure he's going to make it to the good part in this position.

"My arms don't want to hold me up," Brendon says.

Spencer pulls his fingers out gently and taps on Brendon's hip. Brendon collapses sideways onto the mattress and the two of them move around, getting themselves into comfortable positions now that Brendon's on his back.

"I like your face," Spencer says. "I want to look at it when we do this."

"Now," Brendon says. "I don't care if it hurts."

"I do," Spencer says. "But I'll be as careful as I can be."

Spencer nudges Brendon's thighs apart, lifting both of Brendon's legs, using his hands under Brendon's knees. Brendon is totally exposed like this, spread-eagled and completely at Spencer's mercy. Brendon thinks he should be scared, but he's surprised to realize he's really not. He's definitely nervous, but that has more to do with first-time jitters than any fear of Spencer. Despite everything that's happened between them, Brendon doesn't have any doubt that Spencer won't hurt him.

Spencer pushes in with one hard thrust, and it _does_ hurt. Brendon feels full and stretched and uncomfortable, but he also feels something else, some dull ache that he thinks could be the beginning of something pleasurable.

"Move," Brendon says.

Spencer leans down and licks Brendon's jaw, licking up drops of Brendon's sweat as he starts to thrust. Brendon was right about the dull ache. It starts to feel good, and when Spencer does something--thrusts in some different way--it goes from good to great.

"Nngh," Brendon says, using his hands to pull Spencer down so they can kiss. They're both covered in sweat, and Brendon can tell they're both close too. Spencer keeps making this little noise that Brendon recognizes from all of the blow jobs and hand jobs they've been practicing with lately.

"Come on," Spencer says, pushing himself up with one arm so he can use the other to reach between them, wrapping his free hand around Brendon's cock.

He doesn't have to do much more than squeeze Brendon a few times before Brendon comes, throwing his head back and digging his fingers into Spencer's shoulders. Something in the gesture is like permission for Spencer, because he thrusts a few more times and follows right behind Brendon, shaking through his own orgasm even as Brendon's still floating up from his.

Spencer collapses against Brendon's chest. He's heavy, but Brendon's too smug to care. He runs his fingers through Spencer's hair instead and wonders if they can do it again before Spencer has to get up to go and check on the crew.

"Did I hurt you?" Spencer asks.

"Mmm," Brendon says. "I want to do it again."

Spencer laughs, a noise that vibrates from his chest to Brendon's. "What happened to the good little virgin I brought onto this ship?"

Brendon makes a sad little noise and says, "He was corrupted by pirates."

In the morning Spencer goes to check on Ian and brings breakfast back to the cabin with him.

"How's Ian?" Brendon asks.

Spencer sets a tray on the bed with two bowls of cornmeal mush and a small jar of honey. Brendon's stomach growls loudly at the sight of it, making Spencer look up and grin at him.

"I think he's going to be okay, better once we reach land today," Spencer says.

"I want to see him," Brendon says, and Spencer nods, shoving one of the bowls into Brendon's hands.

"Breakfast first."

Brendon's never done anything as decadent as eating naked in bed, but he thinks he could probably get used to it. Spencer scoots up next to him and starts on his own bowl.

"You never said why you left home," Spencer says suddenly.

Brendon hates talking about himself. He hates rehashing all the things he's done wrong in his life, and all the ways he's disappointed the people he loves. He tries not to think of his parents at all.

Brendon says, "You've never asked."

He knows he's being evasive and he doesn't know why. If anyone is going to understand and not judge him, it's the people on this ship.

"I'm asking now," Spencer says.

Brendon nods and says, "I guess it started with a boy."

Brendon tells him everything, what it was like growing up on his parents' farm. How he felt watching his older brothers and sisters get married and start families of their own, and how he never wanted any of those things for himself.

"I guess I didn't know what I wanted until I met Shane," Brendon whispers.

Spencer nods, his face grim and almost angry looking. "What happened?" he asks.

"We got caught and we decided to run away," Brendon says. "I went to his house to meet him just like I was supposed to, but he told me he couldn't come. My parents had thrown me out. I had disgraced them in front of the whole village, so I couldn't go home. I was scared, you know. I thought we would at least be together, but..."

"I would love to find that guy and hit him in the face," Spencer says.

"He was just scared," Brendon whispers. "I'm not angry at him anymore, and at least I got out. I think about that sometimes. If I had never met him, maybe I would still be there, married to some girl I couldn't love, living some life I didn't want."

"So you bought a ticket and got on a boat," Spencer says.

"And now I'm on a pirate ship with you," Brendon replies.

Spencer leans over and kisses Brendon's temple. "Fate is a funny thing," he says.

Brendon thinks about how he's exactly where he wants to be, and he can't disagree.

Ian looks like death, but he's awake and talking.

"Does it hurt?" Brendon asks.

Jon did some kind of patch job on the wound so it's at least not bleeding, but the skin around the cut is red and swollen.

"It did," Ian says, "but Jon and Ryan have been keeping me pretty drunk. I don't really feel much of anything."

By midday they reach landfall.

"Tortuga Island," Jon tells him. "It was settled by the Spaniards, and named for all the sea turtles that lay eggs there."

"Who lives there now?" Brendon asks.

Jon smiles wickedly at him and says, "Well pirates, of course."

They take Ian to a tavern. Brendon is mildly concerned about the type of person who doles out liquor in the same place she doles out medicine, but Zack assures Brendon that everything will be okay.

"Greta pretty much runs the island," Zack says. "Anything you need she can get you."

Greta is tiny, with long wavy hair and a smile that could rival angels in its sweetness. She also cusses more than all of Spencer's crew combined, and swears she's killed more men than half the pirates in her bar.

"I know this island like the back of my own hand," she tells Brendon. "If I want you gone, no one will ever find you."

Brendon doesn't think he's ever met anyone scarier in his life.

She takes a look at Ian's wound and clucks her tongue disapprovingly.

"Did Walker do this butcher's job?" she asks, glaring hard at Spencer.

"I'm a cook," Jon says defensively. "You want a nice stew or a pig on a spit, you come see me. You need stitches and you'll take what you get."

Greta laughs and says, "I suppose it's better than letting the boy bleed to death."

She walks out of the room they've put Ian up in and comes back a few minutes later with bottles full of strange-looking liquids. She starts dabbing one of them around Ian's wound while everyone stares over her shoulder in fascination.

"Are you all just going to stand around and watch me work or might some of you like to go downstairs and have a drink?" Greta asks. "I know which I would prefer you all do."

"We'll go down and have that drink," Spencer says. "Don't kill my crewman."

Greta says, "You've all done a fine job of that on your own. I'll just be busy saving his life."

Spencer gives her a long look as Zack shoves the other boys out of the room.

"I've got him, Spencer," Greta says more softly. "Go on now. He'll be fine."

Spencer nods tersely. His whole body looks tense and stiff, but he lets Brendon take his hand on their way out of the room.

Downstairs they find Ryan and some tall, skinny, guy toe-to-toe by the bar. Jon is sitting at a table with Zack and a bunch of people Brendon doesn't recognize, all of them watching Ryan and the skinny guy yell at one another.

"I still say you're a witch!" the skinny guy yells.

Jon shouts, "Tell the truth, Ryan. You've bewitched me with your ass, haven't you?"

Spencer sits down next to Jon and leans over to shake hands with a few of the other people at the table.

"This is Gabe," Spencer says, pointing to one of the people at the table. "He captains the ship Jon used to pirate with."

Brendon reaches out his hand and says, "I'm Brendon."

Gabe says, "How did you get caught up with this rabble?"

Brendon has no idea how he's supposed to answer that, so he just tells the truth.

"Spencer kidnapped me," he says.

Gabe looks between the two of them says, "Well of course he did."

Spencer doesn't look particularly ashamed or bothered by Gabe's statement. He just shrugs his shoulders and goes back to pointing people out for Brendon.

"The guy Ryan's fighting with at the bar is William, but everyone calls him Bill. He likes to pretend he's madly in love with Jon and that Ryan stole him away, but really Bill's mostly in love with himself and it hurt his ego to let Jon go."

Ryan looks like he's on the verge of hitting Bill, so Brendon's a little relieved when Jon finally gets up and pulls Ryan down onto his lap. Bill glares at the two of them before he strides down to the end of the bar and starts making out with some scruffy guy who looks more interested in finishing his beer than kissing Bill.

"That's Tom," Spencer says. "He's Jon's best friend. We've been trying to steal him away too, but he won't leave Bill for some insane reason."

Brendon knows he's never going to remember all these people, especially after Gabe slides a mug of beer in front of him that is bigger than Brendon's head.

"Down at the end of the table you have Sisky, Mike, Butcher, the lovely lady Victoria, Nate, Ryland, and yet another Alex," Spencer says. "Don't worry about remembering their names. They're all drunk already and will probably come no matter what you call them."

Brendon starts drinking in earnest once he's been properly introduced to everyone. Eventually Greta comes downstairs to join them. She ends up pulling Brendon out to dance, and the two of them take turns chugging beer and swirling around the dance floor together.

By the end of the night Brendon finds himself sprawled out on a bench with his head pillowed on Greta's lap. He has no idea where Spencer is, and it suddenly occurs to him that he might want to find him since he doesn't even know where they're sleeping tonight.

"Where's Spencer?" Brendon asks.

Greta looks down at him and pets his hair, which feels nice, but Brendon doesn't want to be distracted from his mission.

"I think he's still talking to Gabe. The two of them can never shut up about business, even when we're supposed to be having fun. I think Spencer is on the trail of some treasure or another."

Brendon nods solemnly and sticks his thumb to his chest. "I'm his map," Brendon slurs.

Greta smiles down at him, and it hits Brendon again how pretty she is with her golden curls and soft brown eyes. "How are you a map, darling? If I start peeling off clothes am I going to find a giant X hidden somewhere?"

Brendon laughs drunkenly and says, "I burned the paper one. So, now I'm a human map!"

"Aren't you sweet," Greta says. "Spencer's lucky I don't just steal you away."

Brendon lifts his head so he can see over the table in front of him. Spencer and Gabe are still at the table where they all started the night. Gabe looks animated, but Spencer looks entirely too serious, and he's looking directly at Brendon.

"Spencer looks mad," Brendon says.

"Spencer always looks mad," Greta replies. "We should sneak over and give him a kiss."

Brendon really likes Greta. So far she's been full of all sorts of good ideas. Brendon's not sure how sneaky they're going to be since Brendon can barely walk, but it still sounds like fun.

Gabe and Spencer are so wrapped up in their conversation that Brendon and Greta actually manage to get the drop on them.

"Boo!" Greta shouts, and Gabe yelps, flinging his arm out and spilling his beer all over the table.

"You're going to pay for that," Gabe says, and Great laughs brightly as she runs off across the room with Gabe closing in on her.

Brendon drops down next to Spencer and says, "I'm so drunk."

"So I see," Spencer says. "Maybe I should get you to bed."

"Maybe you should," Brendon agrees.

Brendon never used to like the dark. Now it feels safe, like Spencer's body is a shield and nothing bad can happen as long as he's there.

Spencer kisses him in the dark, strips him down to his skin, and fills up all the empty places with pieces of himself.

Brendon tells him, "I love you," and Spencer stills above him, like Brendon's words have broken their rhythm.

Spencer says, "What am I going to do with you?"

Brendon says, "Whatever you want," but in the end he hopes what Spencer wants is to keep him close.

Brendon wakes up to the sound of Spencer screaming his name. His eyes fly open, but he's still half asleep and disoriented. He sees a man leaning over him, but he barely has enough time to take in his dark eyes and long, stringy hair before the man holds something over Brendon's mouth that makes everything go dark again.

The next time Brendon wakes up it's with ropes around his wrists and ankles, and frankly he's getting pretty sick of this whole "knocked unconscious, bound, and kidnapped" routine. Brendon tries to sit up, but his hands are tied behind his back this time and he has a hard time getting the right leverage to boost himself into a sitting position.

Brendon hears someone say, "Need some help, Brendon?" but he can't see who it is or tell where exactly the voice is coming from.

"You seem to have an advantage that I'm lacking," Brendon says, as he tries to work his wrists free from the ropes binding him.

"Well yes," the voice says. "You're tied up and I'm not."

The voice finally lets Brendon see his face, and Brendon recognizes him as the guy who knocked him out in his and Spencer's room.

"I meant that you know my name and I'm still waiting for an introduction," Brendon says.

The guy laughs and says, "Smith always did like the feisty ones." He does a jaunty little bow and says, "Alex Greenwald, captain of the Phantom, at your service."

"Another Alex," Brendon says. "Fantastic."

"It does seem to be a popular name among pirates," Greenwald says.

Brendon doesn't know what it is about Greenwald that makes his stomach sour. The guy is vaguely greasy looking and his eyes look like they belong to a dead man, but it's not like pirates are exactly the cleanest bunch of guys to begin with. Brendon also can't blame it on the whole kidnapping him and holding him against his will thing, since Brendon kind of fell in love with the last guy who did that to him.

"Do you think you could untie me?" Brendon asks. "I'm assuming we're on your ship, and if that's the case it's not like I have very far to run."

Greenwald pulls a knife out of his boot and bends to cut Brendon's ropes. "If you try to run you're going to get hurt," he says.

"I'm not going to run," Brendon says. "I figure Spencer's already on his way to get me anyway."

"What makes you think Smith is still alive?" Greenwald asks.

Brendon looks younger than he is, and he does his best to try and see the good in people. Sometimes that comes across to some people as stupidity. Brendon is anything but stupid.

"The only reason I can think of to take me is to hurt Spencer, and dead people don't feel any pain," Brendon says. "The thing I don't understand is what you plan to do with me. If you wanted to kill me you would have done it."

"This has absolutely nothing to do with Spencer," Greenwald says. "It's you I wanted."

A chill runs up Brendon's spine. Brendon can't think of anything that Greenwald might want from him, and if it really is him that Greenwald wants there's a very real possibility that Spencer is dead. Brendon can't think about that or he might go insane. He focuses his attention on his current situation instead.

"Why would you possibly want me?" Brendon asks.

Greenwald smiles, and it only serves to make him uglier. "A little birdie told me you might be able to lead me to a very substantial treasure."

Brendon's blood feels cold underneath his skin. "How could you--"

The previous night comes flooding back--his drunken dancing with Greta and the talk they had together on the bench before she ran off with Gabe.

"Greta," Brendon whispers.

"First rule of the sea," Greenwald says. "Never trust a pirate, especially Greta. She'd sell out her own mother for the right price."

"But she saved Ian's life! She's Spencer's friend!"

"And if she was yours you'd have known better than to tell her about the map," Greenwald says.

Brendon's too smart to not be scared. He hasn't forgotten what Jon told him about this man. Jon may have left out the particulars, but clearly Greenwald had done something to Ryan that was bad enough to make Spencer want to take him down, and Brendon is all too aware that he's completely at Greenwald's mercy right now.

Brendon gets distracted from his thoughts when the door to the cabin opens. Before Victoria and Greta, Brendon had never heard of female pirates, but if the two girls that walk through the door are any indication, they're more common than Brendon thought.

Both women are beautiful, but one has long blonde hair and a sweet smile while the other is all sharp edges and big eyes with hair short enough to be mistaken for a boy's.

Greenwald says, "Tennessee and Z, let me introduce you to Brendon."

Greenwald does another one of his stupid bows, and Brendon has to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

Z sticks her bottom lip out and says, "I thought you were bringing me Ryan. I miss him."

"Walker never leaves his side," Greenwald says. "I couldn't get to him, and this one is going to make us rich."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Brendon snaps. "Is it like a pirate prerequisite that you have to have a hard on for Ryan Ross in order to sail the deep blue sea?"

Tennessee raises her hand and says, "I'm only mildly amused by him, but these two have more amorous feelings."

Z looks at Tennessee and says, "That's because you haven't seen his dick."

If Brendon makes it out of this alive he is going to hit Ryan Ross right in his stupid face.

"I'm never going to help you," Brendon says. "Get the treasure that is."

"Oh I think you will," Greenwald says. "If you don't I'm going to kill you, and you'll never get to see your precious Smith again."

"I thought you said he was dead," Brendon says. His chest is so tight he can barely breathe as he waits for Greenwald's reply.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," he says. "If he's alive I'm sure he'll be wanting his map back. In the meantime I hope you'll be as cooperative with me as you have been with Smith."

Brendon physically recoils. "If you touch me I swear to God I'll kill myself and you'll never get your damn treasure."

"Both of you calm down," Z snaps. "Stop threatening the boy, Alex. He's going to help us because he has to, and we're going to be gentlemen as a sign of our appreciation for his help."

Z raises one of her eyebrows and gives them both a stern look.

"What guarantee do I have that you won't kill me once I lead you to the treasure?" Brendon asks.

Brendon already knows he doesn't have a choice. As long as there's a slight possibility that Spencer is alive and coming for him, Brendon will do what he has to do to stay alive.

"You don't," Z says. "But, it'll take us a few weeks to get where we're going. Your cooperation will at least buy you a little time."

The realization that Brendon is probably going to die hits him like a wave against the side of the ship. Z has all but said they plan on disposing of him once they get what they want out of him, and the idea that he's come so far only to die in the same place he fought so hard to escape is completely unacceptable. Brendon makes himself a promise that he won't go out easily. He doesn't doubt for a second that Spencer is coming to rescue him, but he has no intention of putting his life solely in someone else's hands ever again. If these people want to take Brendon's life then Brendon is prepared to do whatever it takes to protect himself.

Brendon loses track of the days. They keep him in a small room and for the first few days he doesn't even have a lamp to see by. It's the worst kind of torture not knowing how much time has passed or whether it's day or night.

The last thing he wants to do is beg, but Greenwald and Z are the only people who ever come to bring him food and neither one of them is particularly talkative, so when his door opens and Brendon sees Tennessee walking through it he can't help but try his luck with her.

"Do you think I could go outside today?" Brendon asks.

Tennessee sets down a tray with bread and pork on it. Brendon doesn't usually get meat, and the sight of it gives him hope that Tennessee might be more lenient than the other two.

"Do I look like your benefactor?" Tennessee asks.

Brendon tries his best to look pathetic, which he probably doesn't need to do. He's hungry, and he knows he's lost weight and color from being kept down below. His clothes are dirty and he hasn't had a bath since Tortuga.

"I'm going crazy down here," Brendon says. "If I could go out for a just a few minutes it might help."

Tennessee frowns at him and says, "What makes you think I care?"

Brendon realizes she probably doesn't. None of these people care about him, and asking them for things that might make him more comfortable is like a thirsty man asking the sun to stop shining in the desert. It's just not going to happen.

Brendon misses the _Panic_. He misses Jon and Zack and even Ryan a little bit, but mostly he misses Spencer. He knows his feelings for Spencer have been changing and growing over the weeks, but it's only now when there's a chance he may never see Spencer again that he can admit he's gone and fallen in love with him. The whole situation is scary, but the good and exciting kind.

Spencer's feelings are scary too, but that's only because Brendon has no idea what they are. Brendon has no doubt that Spencer is attracted to him. Spencer's made it perfectly clear that he _wants_ Brendon, but Brendon's not stupid. If his experience with Shane taught him anything it was that love and lust are two completely different things. His biggest fear is that he's doing it again, falling for someone who has no intention of giving Brendon anything more than physical pleasure. Brendon wants it all. He wants to live and work on the _Panic_ alongside her crew and her captain, and he wants Spencer to go to bed with him every night and wake up with him in the morning, but more than anything he wants Spencer to love him as much as Brendon loves Spencer.

There's a very real possibility that at the end of this adventure he could be dead, but somehow that thought is less disturbing than a scenario where Spencer saves him only to take the treasure and leave him exactly where he started, heartbroken and alone.

"Do you think I could have a lamp?" he asks. He doesn't actually expect Tennessee to give in to his demands, but the longer he talks the longer she is likely to stay, and more than the hunger and the cold and the desperate need to bathe, Brendon is so lonely he could cry.

"What could you possibly need a lamp for?" Tennessee asks, but her tone isn't cruel. She seems genuinely curious.

"I'm just tired of being in the dark," Brendon says.

Tennessee stares down at him for a few more seconds before she shakes her head and leaves Brendon alone again. Brendon eats his bread methodically, and when he's finished he drinks his entire cup of water in three gulps. He feels his way across the room to the bucket they've set up for him and relieves himself before he goes back to his pallet and tries to sleep. Brendon sleeps a lot now, letting his dreams fill up the empty hours until Greenwald has a use for him.

He wakes a few hours later, and it takes him a few moments before he realizes he can see. Sitting on a small table near his bedding is a small lamp, and that in and of itself would be enough to make Brendon jump for joy, but laying next to the lamp--its pages slightly tattered but certainly readable--is a book. Brendon picks it up gently, treating it like it's more precious than gold and silver, and opens it to the first page.

Greenwald brings him his next meal, takes one look at the book on Brendon's lap and stomps out again with the plate of food still in his hands.

It's a long time before anyone comes again, so long that Brendon's past the point of regular hunger. He's literally starving now, and he wonders if this is how he's going to die, wasting away into nothing but skin and bones, locked in the bottom of a ship.

It's Z that starts bringing him food again. Brendon knows he probably looks terrible, pale and thin, but Z doesn't look very well herself.

"Is everything okay?" Brendon asks, and it's weird that he's honestly concerned about someone who wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire.

Z doesn't even look at him. She sets his plate on the table and leaves without a word.

Brendon starts scratching marks into one of the floorboards. Z brings him two meals a day, mostly old bread and the occasional dried out pork. She never speaks to him, but he uses her visits like a guide for the day passing. He's still not sure which visit is day and which is night, but at least he has some record, some proof of how long he's been down there.

On the day he makes the second mark the candle in his lamp finally burns out. Since he can no longer read he gets up and walks the room a couple of times a day. His muscles feel soft from disuse, but his calves and thighs cramp up if he sits for too long. It's something to do anyway, and after a few days he can make his way around the room without putting his hands out to feel his way around.

Sometimes he sits by the floorboard with the marks and runs his fingers over the indentions. Sometimes he talks to himself, making up conversations in his head--things he wishes he'd said, or things he plans to say if he ever gets out of this room. Sometimes he thinks he's completely lost his mind.

On the day he makes his thirteenth mark, Greenwald comes for him.

"It's time," he says, and Brendon doesn't ask any questions. He gets up and follows Greenwald out the door.

It takes Brendon more than a few minutes to get his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. He can see spots of light through his eyelids, but despite the fact that he's basically blind, he takes the time to enjoy the sun on his skin and the wind in his hair before he tries to open them again.

Once he stops seeing sun spots he can make out a shoreline in the distance. Greenwald has maneuvered them to the back side of the island. Brendon is sure there are a few people that inhabit this side of the island--single houses or small settlements here and there and mostly along the coastline--but the main village where Brendon grew up is safely on the other side of the island.

Brendon would be a liar if he said he wasn't curious about his family. Now that he's here, he wonders what things would look like if he could sneak up on them and peer in on their lives. He's curious to see how they've all gotten on without him. In the months since he left he's thought about them more than he cares to admit but leading a band of murderous pirates right to his parent's front door is not on the agenda for the day.

"How many people live on this side of the island?" Greenwald asks.

The question is a hard reminder of why he's back here. This isn't a visit home. This isn't some fun jaunt or even an adventure to find treasure. For Brendon it may very possibly come down to a matter of life and death.

"Not many," Brendon answers. "Most of the people live in my village on the east side of the island."

"Yes," Z says. "We scouted around the whole island before we picked this spot to go in."

"I'm sure there are a few inhabitants here and there," Brendon warns. "There's always been a few people who lived on the outskirts of the village, but it's a big island. I wouldn't be surprised if there were even a few small settlements no one knows about."

"We should be able to avoid those easily enough," Tennessee says, appearing out of nowhere on Brendon's right side.

She surprises Brendon enough that he jumps, putting his hand over his heart as he turns to look at her. It's the first time Brendon's seen her since she brought him the lamp and the book, and even though Brendon knows she's the enemy he has to admit he's relieved to see her alive and well. Z's surliness over the last two weeks coupled with Tennessee's disappearance had Brendon worrying.

Now all Brendon can worry about is himself. Brendon is all too aware that once Greenwald has the treasure he'll no longer have any use for him. Brendon's only advantage is knowing the island. It puts him in a position of power for the first time since Greenwald captured him.

Of course there's also the small matter of Brendon not actually _knowing_ where the treasure is. If he had the map in front of him he could lead them there without a moment's hesitation, but trying to remember a map he looked at a few times almost a month ago is more problematic. He knows the area, but it's heavily wooded and one rock formation looks the same as the next to Brendon. His only hope is that he can figure out a way to escape before Greenwald figures out that Brendon can't get him all the way to the treasure.

"Z's gong to lower the long boat," Greenwald says. "It'll just be the three of us going. I want to be sure I can trust everyone I bring with me."

Greenwald gives Tennessee the kind of look that would cow most people, but Tennessee never looks away, meeting Greenwald's glare with one of her own.

While the two of them stare daggers at one another neither one of them notice that Z is also staring daggers. For the first time in his life Brendon understands exactly what people mean by "if looks could kill", because if they could, Greenwald would be dead at Z's hands.

Tennessee says, "I'll help lower the boat," and stomps off in Z's direction. The two of them walk away in tandem, their gaits measured and in sync.

Brendon spent his childhood rowing the water around the islands, but he's out of shape from the month of sitting on his ass. By the time they reach the shore his arms and his shoulders are sore and tired.

Greenwald has a pack for both Z and himself with water, food, and a few other necessities just in case they get stuck out here for longer than they anticipated.

"Provided you behave yourself Z and I might be willing to share," Greenwald says.

"I think we can be there by nightfall," Brendon says.

It's true, but it's also convenient. If Brendon needs to he can use the dark as an excuse for being confused, buying himself the hours until dawn to figure a way out of this.

They walk up the beach until Brendon spots a good place to start working their way up a small cliff face. It's steep and dirty climbing, but not particularly perilous or exhausting. Once they get to the top the vegetation starts to change into high grass and thick brush. Brendon can see the treeline in the distance and wonders if he can use the woods to get the three of them a little lost. The longer this takes the better in Brendon's opinion.

"How far off do you think trees are?" Z asks. She's already perspiring heavily, but Brendon doesn't let that fool him. He saw the way Z was looking at Greenwald on the ship. She's not someone Brendon wants to mess with.

"A couple of hours," Brendon says.

Greenwald looks up at the sun and frowns. "Walk faster," he snaps.

Brendon stops talking and walks.

Greenwald has a compass, so purposely turning them around is not an option. On the other hand, Greenwald has never seen the actual map. He'll only know they're in the right spot when Brendon tells them they are. Walking until nightfall is still the best plan Brendon has. Sadly it's also the _only_ plan Brendon has.

Thanks to the heavy tree cover it becomes impossible to see anything even with the sun still sinking on the horizon. Brendon stops and turns around a couple of times before he says, "We're going to have to stop. I can't see where I'm going anymore."

Greenwald sets his pack down and turns on Brendon without any kind of warning, backhanding him cleanly across the face. The blow lands hard against Brendon's jaw, and because he wasn't braced for it, sends him wheeling backward until he hits the ground with a hard thud.

"Just a reminder that gold isn't worth your life," Greenwald says. "If you're planning on escape or are going to attempt to lead me in circles I'll kill you. I want the gold, but the idea of Spencer stumbling across your dead body is almost as appealing."

Brendon nods his understanding. His jaw hurts so badly he doesn't think he could open his mouth to answer anyway.

Z doesn't look at either of them. She busies herself gathering up sticks and twigs to build a fire. Brendon stays on the ground, moving into a sitting position where he can watch Z and think. Greenwald's blow was meant to scare Brendon into cooperating, but it actually has the opposite effect on him. Brendon figures that if he's going to die, he might as well die fighting. He has no intention of spending a second longer than he has to in Greenwald's company.

Z gets the fire going, and she and Alex start going through their packs, pulling out food and drink.

"We're going to need to find a water source before we make the return trip," Z says. "Things could get uncomfortable otherwise."

"We might only need enough water for two," Greenwald says pointedly.

Brendon doesn't have to look up to know Greenwald is staring at him. Brendon can feel Greenwald's eyes boring into the top of his head. Brendon closes his eyes and focuses on what's going on around him instead. He keeps hearing movement in the trees around them. It's not particularly worrisome, but there's one sound that Brendon thinks he's heard two times now that can't possibly be real. The only thing Brendon can think of to explain it is wishful thinking.

And then he hears it again clear as anything, a high pitched whistle that he and Shane used to find one another when they used to meet in secret on the outskirts of the village.

Brendon lets out a whistle in answer before he realizes what a mistake that might be.

Greenwald stands up immediately, grabbing Brendon around his upper arm and yanking him up next to him.

"What was that?" he demands.

Brendon has no idea what to say. He's completely caught off guard. "It's a bird," he says.

"Do I look stupid to you?" Greenwald shouts. "Who's out there! Show yourself."

Z draws her pistol and nods at Greenwald as he does the same, only Z points hers out toward the trees while Greenwald points his at Brendon's temple.

"I'll kill him!" Greenwald yells. "I swear it."

Brendon can feel Greenwald vibrating against his back. He's strung so tight that Brendon thinks the slightest thing could have him putting a bullet in Brendon's head. Brendon makes a split-second decision and brings his elbow back into Greenwald's rib cage as hard as he can.

Greenwald lets out a loud yelp and then all hell breaks loose. Brendon turns and crashes into Greenwald, using his entire body to tackle him to the ground. Brendon hears gun fire, and he can smell gun powder in the air. He tries to ignore it, putting all of his effort into the fight in front of him. Greenwald's fist punches Brendon hard in his side. It momentarily knocks the wind out of him, giving Greenwald the opportunity to flip them, putting Greenwald in a better position to land his punches.

Brendon knows he's on the defensive now and because he's smaller it's not going to be easy to get the upper hand back. The only thing he has going for him at the moment is that Greenwald seems to have lost his gun in the fight.

Greenwald keeps swinging his fists over and over, almost like he's not even mindful of what he's doing anymore, until all Brendon can do is hold his hands up to try and ward off the continuous blows. It doesn't take Brendon long to realize that he might die like this, having his face punched in by a man who's clearly lost all touch with reality.

Brendon closes his eyes, opening them just in time to see Spencer's black boot connect with Greenwald's head. Brendon hears bone crunching as Spencer kicks again, this time bringing the point of his boot under Greenwald's chin. He's done after that, slumping weightlessly on top of Brendon until Spencer kicks him again, using his foot to roll Greenwald off of Brendon's body.

Spencer falls to his knees and puts his hand under Brendon's chin. Spencer's face looked pinched with worry, his mouth moving over and over until Brendon finally realizes Spencer's saying something to him.

"Can you hear me, Brendon?" Spencer asks.

Understanding finally comes to him, and Brendon tries to nod. His whole head explodes in pain with the movement, making him moan instead.

"Don't try to move," Spencer says.

"You came," Brendon whispers right before he passes out.

Brendon's not sure how long he's out, but when he comes to Spencer is still sitting right beside him.

"You're awake," Spencer says.

"You're here," Brendon whispers.

Spencer smiles at him and says, "We took a vote. Apparently the crew thinks they need you."

From somewhere off to the side Brendon hears Jon say, "Don't listen to him. We were all enjoying the peace and quiet. Spencer's the one who insisted on a rescue mission."

"Help me sit up," Brendon asks.

Spencer helps Brendon into a sitting position, letting him use Spencer's body to lean against. The crew has Z and Greenwald tied to a tree. Ryan is there conversing quietly with Z, but Greenwald still looks unconscious.

Zack is stirring a pot over the fire that Z built and sitting next to him is Shane. Brendon's eyes widen, and he takes a deep breath. Of all the things he imagined he'd feel if he ever saw Shane again, surprise isn't one of them. He's surprised to see him here at all, but more than that he's surprised that there's nothing more than that. Somewhere along the way Brendon stopped hurting over Shane, until all that's left are memories of the way he used to make Brendon feel.

"Shane," Brendon whispers.

"I remembered you telling me he knew the woods as well as you did, and I thought..." Spencer stops and takes a breath. "I thought he might be willing to help."

"You threatened to kill him, didn't you?" Brendon jokes.

Spencer doesn't look like he's joking. His face is entirely too serious for someone who just saved the day. "I didn't have to," he says. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to."

"Spencer," Brendon says. "I don't care about Shane."

"Since when?" Spencer asks.

"A while," Brendon answers. "I'm not sure really, but it was probably right around the time I met you."

"I thought maybe coming home would make you remember what you had here," Spencer says.

"I don't have anything here," Brendon says, "because this isn't my home."

Spencer smiles, and Brendon twists his head to press his lips gently against Spencer's.

"When you're not bruised and hurt I'm going to kiss you properly," Spencer says.

Brendon says, "I'm counting on it, but for now I'd settle for you taking me home."

Back on the beach Ryan and Spencer start arguing about what they should do with Z and Greenwald.

"He's not leaving this island alive," Spencer says. "Look at Brendon's face."

"You kill him and Z comes after you," Ryan snaps. "And I'm not willing to kill Z. I'm rather fond of her."

"I would think her gunning for your best friend would make you less fond of her," Spencer shouts.

Brendon rolls his eyes and focuses his attention on Shane instead. He's used to Ryan and Spencer shouting at one another and knows it's best to let the two of them work it out.

"So you're a pirate," Shane says. "Life is full of surprises."

Brendon actually isn't that surprised. There's always been something inside of Brendon trying to get out, clawing at his insides like a cornered animal. Brendon gets that it might be surprising to Shane, because the longer Brendon's around him, the more obvious it becomes that neither of them really knew one another very well. More than that, Brendon thinks neither of them knew themselves very well.

"I'm good though," Brendon says. "I'm happy."

"I'm glad," Shane says. "I never wanted you to be any other way."

Ryan finally convinces Spencer to let Z go. She surprises all of them by taking Ryan's gun almost as soon as he's untied her.

Ryan looks absolutely shocked at her betrayal, until she shocks them all even more by turning and putting a bullet right between Greenwald's eyes.

She tosses the gun on the sand and walks over to Greenwald's body, picking up this hat and shaking the sand off of it before she places it on her head.

Ryan says, "What the hell! You just killed your captain."

Z shrugs and says, "Nobody hits Tennessee and gets away with it. I guess there's a new captain on the pirate ship _Phantom_."

Spencer says, "I was looking forward to killing him myself."

Z puts her shoulders back and juts her chin out defiantly, holding herself a little straighter, like the hat and all the responsibility that comes with it is changing Z from the inside out. Brendon thinks she looks even fiercer, scarier, but proud too.

"You got to kick the shit out of him. You'll have to be satisfied with that," she says.

She and Spencer spend a few seconds staring each other down, speaking in some kind of unspoken language made up of squinted eyes and arched brows. Brendon watches them, fascinated, as they come to some kind of understanding without saying a single word.

"I trust I don't need to tell you that it would be best for all parties if we never saw you again?" Spencer finally says. "But I'm saying it just the same."

Z smiles and says, "You're not seeing me right now."

Back on the _Panic_ Brendon insists on being on deck when they hoist the sails.

"You should be resting," Spencer says for the hundredth time.

Brendon knows Spencer's just worried, but Brendon kind of feels like this is one of those "first days of the rest of his life" moments, and he has no intention of missing it.

"No way am I missing this," Brendon says. "The only way this moment could be more perfect is if we'd found the treasure."

Spencer smiles and says, "Oh...did I forget to mention that we got here two days before you did?"

Brendon turns on him and says, "You did not."

"We so did," Spencer says. "We are all very rich men. We can buy an island or sail across the world. We can do anything you want to do. All you have to do is say the word."

"We can go anywhere?" Brendon asks.

"Tell me where you want to go and I'll take you there."

"I'd like to go right off into the sunset, Spencer Smith," Brendon says. "Right off into the sunset with you."


End file.
